New Year's Cheer
by LilyGhost
Summary: Stephanie and Ranger decide to celebrate the new year right.
1. Chapter 1

**Everybody and anything familiar belongs to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone.**

"That ring stays on your finger, Stephanie," my man in black told me.

"I know."

"Then why have you just been staring down at it for the last two minutes?"

Of course he entered the apartment like smoke again and walked into the kitchen without me hearing a friggin' thing until he spoke. Not only doesn't he make noise, he seems to be able to turn off my neck tingle whenever it suits him. Despite the small jump I did when I realized someone was standing behind me, my hips stayed plastered to the breakfast bar in our little kitchen. My elbows were on the counter, and my eyes had been glued to the clear-conscience everything diamond on my left ring finger. I'd taken it off for a grand total of five minutes earlier today while Ella showed me how to knead sweet dough for homemade cinnamon rolls, and I actually felt naked without it.

I didn't think _that_ would happen. I'd convinced myself that getting married isn't that big a deal. Once my brain, my heart, and my reproductive chute, decided _Ranger_ is the only guy they want inside them, that was it for me. I wasn't concerned about the details of our future once I let us have one. The ring is pretty, though. It has a way larger than I need cushion-cut diamond at the center of it. The patterned white gold band is thin, yet I'm not worried about it being damaged if I have to damage some asshole's nose with a left hook that Cal and Hector have been helping me to perfect.

One diamond should be enough for any woman, but knowing Ranger the way I do had me studying the thing thoroughly after he slipped it on me. I hadn't missed the tiny, double-stacked, _overkill_ diamonds at each corner of the center stone. Ranger had said something to his mother about an 'art deco' design when she'd asked about it, but I'd zoned out seeing it on my finger after hearing the 'cushion-cut' part. The ring is elegant but still a little edgy. Why he picked that particular combo for me ... I don't know, but the week I've spent wearing it had me loving it almost as much as I love the guy who bought it.

He didn't get out of the surprise engagement unscathed, though. If my ring was supposed to warn off other men, then it's only fair that he wear a 'no poaching' symbol to ward off skanks like Joyce. My Batman had given up diamond studs a while ago, and I don't see him putting them on his finger in their place, so the band I got and gave him the day after he proposed at his grandparents' house ... is a plain titanium not-too-big one with the word 'TAKEN' printed boldly across it.

When I found what I was looking for at a jewelry store in Hamilton Township, I'd had serious doubts he'd humor me long enough to even put it on, never mind wear it everyday, but the way he let me slide it on his finger, and how he kissed me and promptly took me to bed right after, had me believing that he really enjoyed the fact that I wanted to publicly state that I've taken him and I never plan on giving him up.

I told him something similar to what he just said to me when he came into the kitchen. He's not allowed to take my 'Taken' ring off until I put an official husband one on him instead.

"You're staring again, Babe," he pointed out.

"What can I say ... you have good taste in jewelry, which I _should_ question but I won't."

He gave me a playful swat on the behind. I'd moved slightly so I could look at him and my ass was stuck out in the line of fire. He picked up my cell that was lying by my elbow and checked to see what the last call I'd answered was. He wasn't surprised to find my parents' number clocking in five minutes before he scared the crap out of me by coming in without making a peep.

"What did the Monster of the Bride want this time?" He asked.

Our actual engagement had been great, but what followed after when the Burg learned about it has been a nightmare. Morelli's still bitching to anyone he can about it, my mom only got pushier, and going to the bonds office has become almost impossible, which now has me seriously thinking of making Rangeman a 'family' business.

"You won't believe the reason my mom called this time," I told him.

"Try me."

"Since she knows there's absolutely no way I'm changing my mind about the groom, she's clearly trying to make my life miserable over every other decision. This call was her reminding me that I'll have to pick a color for our invitations. She gave me two of her already okay'd options ... cream or ivory. I laughed at her because I seriously thought she was screwing with me. She wasn't. And she didn't appreciate me pointing out that they're _the same fucking color!_ As usual, I hung up right after."

He rested his perfect, muscled ass next to where I'm still leaning. He didn't tell me to relax, that this isn't a big deal, or that I'm overreacting to something minor here. One of his concerns was how much pressure my family, my mom in particular, would put on me if they knew a wedding was going to happen. I'm not worried. Our wedding will be great because he and I will be facing it together. No one else's opinion matters.

I'd told him that after the news broke ... he really should've looked into an undercover ring instead of a spotlight if he didn't want the spotlight put on us getting married. Judging by the way his dark eyes pinned me to the bar, I'd have to say he still has some concerns about my stress level. I swear, the police department should look into hiring him on just to scare assholes into an airtight confession.

"She's not ruining this for you, too," he said after a few beats. "Are you going to shut her down for good? Or do I get to?"

"She isn't getting to me, I promise. No one else factors into _our_ wedding. We're doing this our way. Maybe I should be having some sort of bridal meltdown, having my family and 'friends' constantly asking me what I'm thinking, planning, and doing, but none of it has penetrated. I want to be with you and that's all I'm allowing myself to care about. Whether we get married tonight or ten years from now, is fine with me because I know we'll still be together."

He reached out, curled an arm around my body, and sort of rolled me into his. "Things are turning out a little differently than I'd expected them to when I asked you to marry me."

I lifted an eyebrow at him. "You didn't expect my family and Connie and Lula to be huge pains in the asses?" I asked.

"No, that was a given. I wanted you as my wife when I asked you to be at the party my grandparents' threw for their fifty-sixth wedding anniversary ..."

The image of his family's shocked, then ecstatic, faces is something I'll remember for the rest of my life ... and long after it, since I'm hoping my afterlife includes them.

"Lester told me the other day that he threatens to turn a hose on you every time I walk into the control room, so you couldn't have changed your mind about that," I said, smiling up at him.

"If he ever pulled anything on me, he'd be swallowing it right after, which is why he only says shit like that to you. And I haven't changed my mind about anything concerning you."

"But ...?"

"I don't like how even being here, and with me, the Burg is still trying to control you."

"A blushing bride I am not ... at least when I'm talking to my mom. For those few minutes, I lean more towards being a sweating, hyperventilating, ulcerative mess, until I just hang up. Then I'm back to normal and thankful yet again that I'm not like her."

"The thought of marrying me causes ulcers?"

"Nope, not at all. Promising to be your wife was - and still is - the easy part. That's why I said yes in the first place. I didn't care about much regarding Dickie so I let everyone make the decisions for me. I didn't realize until now just how much crap there is to wade through just to say two little words."

" _I do_?"

"Yeah. _Those_ I have no problem with. I've even been saying them in my sleep, but I can't get anyone to shut up and listen long enough to see that I'd much rather stop at a store and pick up a day-old sheet cake to eat in the car on our way to the airport to an undisclosed elopement site, than spend a week taste-testing frosting and cake combinations at twenty different bakeries."

His lips formed a small smile. "You love cake, and enjoy frosting even more. The thought of trying them all out shouldn't bother you in the least," he teased.

" _I know!_ That's what it took to convince me that I need to either let the Burg or my sanity go. The day I complain about having to eat frosting, is the day either the world explodes ... or _I_ do."

"Your world isn't allowed to explode unless I'm inside you causing the eruption. What do you say we just go-ahead and elope?"

"That was part of what I was thinking when you came in. I don't want to turn into a woman who cringes at - and tries to avoid - every phone call, conversation, or email, having to do with wedding dresses, dinner menus, or 'appropriate' bands. I want to be engaged to you and also married to you, I don't care about the length of time in between them or exactly how we go from a hot couple to a hot married one. But what about your parents? And it seems rude to leave out your grandparents since we sorta usurped their night with you popping the question as they were popping the cork on the champagne for their anniversary toast."

"Do you want them all there?"

I pictured a utilitarian courthouse room with no one we know there as we promise to love and honor each other forever. Suddenly my stomach felt like someone had scraped it raw and is now grinding salt into it.

" _Your_ family I definitely want with us. I was all set to say let's just do this tomorrow, but I want a few people we care about there with us to celebrate something we all wondered would actually happen. Plus, Mary Lou will kill me if we do this without her."

"Alright. You know that my parents have thrown a New Year's Eve party every year since I was a child," he told me. "My mother will automatically invite Mary Lou and Lenny if she thinks their plans fell through, and since your parents don't want to have anything to do with me and mine, we can plan on an impromptu and intimate ceremony at midnight. We'll make surprising my family a regular event."

"I'm sorry my parents can't, or just refuse, to see what I do when it comes to you and the people you and I love."

"What your parents do or don't feel about me isn't something I waste time thinking about. You're the only Plum I'm interested in impressing."

"You don't have to waste time on that one, either, because you're impressive in every way and are my life in every sense of the word. You saved it tons of times, improve it every day, and have made me excited to live it. All miracles in my mind. If I haven't said it enough ... thank you for everything you've done for me and Rex."

"You being alive is the only thanks I'll ever need, Babe," he said, once again downplaying the role he's played in helping me become the woman I am today.

"Will your grandparents still be up when the clock strikes twelve?" I asked, thinking of my parents' decades-old nine-thirty bedtime.

"I'll advise them to take a nap before heading to my parents' house."

"Count me in then. I'm betting few things top ringing in the new year as a Manoso."

"There are many things I can do without, the holidays are one of them, so this will give me one to look forward to. I'm also looking forward to having a late breakfast with my wife on January first, watching her take her first sip of coffee, then with a fingertip wiping off the inevitable drop that remains on the mug ... absently licking it off her skin. It's sexy and oddly hypnotic."

"I don't do that."

"Yes you do. And you do it with everything except a to-go cup. That's only one of your many adorable quirks that makes each day one I enjoy."

I smiled up at him. "Looks like watching me do weird stuff will be a 'until death do us part' commitment really soon."

He gave me a hundred-watt grin. And when he followed it up with a mind-melting kiss, it almost wiped out my last clear thought, which was ... what a great year it's about to be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews and encouragement to write a Ranger and Steph wedding for the original story. Ranger must have heard about it and wanted to add his perspective to the story. Everyone and everything familiar is still Janet's.**

 **Chapter 2**

 **Ranger's POV**

It doesn't happen very often, but the shot of fear I felt was real and excruciating when I'd walked into our home to discover Stephanie staring at her left hand as if she couldn't believe it was attached to her. She appeared to want whatever I could give her, but old thinking habits die hard ... and I momentarily thought she was reconsidering her life and if she really wanted to waste hers on me.

I didn't let it show, but my mind went numb with relief when she assured me she was just pro and con-ing ways to marry me with as little stress and fanfare as we could manage. She never once questioned whether or not to go through with it. With one suggestion, I solved the problem of her mother, and with ten minutes of shower time and five minutes spent getting dressed, I'm ready to see us through to the completion of our wedding 'plans'.

My parents still have all their Christmas trees and lights up, so no decorations are needed. The only people we wanted at our wedding had already RSVP'd for the annual Manoso Happy New Year Night. The Stankovics are coming and I'd let it slip that Edna may need a place to ring in the new year as well, so she had also been invited to the party by my mother ... I'd bet within seconds of me hanging up. I questioned if I should have the Kloughns invited as well, but I knew Valerie wouldn't risk Helen's wrath by choosing to spend a holiday with my family over theirs. Having their grandmother attend is a surprise for Stephanie, our wedding will be a surprise for everyone else.

My soon-to-be wife is currently trying to perfect what can't be any more perfect in my eyes. I continued to believe that up until she stepped out of the bathroom. My dick and my heart ached equally as her eyes collided with mine. It was almost impossible to pull them away from her blue ones, but it wasn't fair to prevent them from roaming the length of her ... from her brown curls pulled casually back and held up at the base of her neck, to the black cross-strapped stilettos on her feet.

"What do you think? Do I look like I'm ready to get married?" She asked, glancing down at herself.

"No. You look like you're about to persuade the devil to give up hell for you."

Traditional anything isn't what she'd wanted. She'd gone with a take-no-prisoners appearance over a virginal one. The Merlot-red sequined dress hugged the body that will bear my name soon. The only skin showing other than her beautiful face are her hands, collarbones, and three-quarters of the legs that had been wrapped around various parts of me only a few hours ago.

"I'm only interested in _you_ giving up being single for me," she said.

"That'll be happening tonight."

"You mean _tomorrow_ ... if we do it at midnight."

"Funny, Babe."

She tipped her head and smiled innocently at me. The movement caused my Christmas gift to her to shift on her ears. When she'd presented me with the ring I hadn't expected and haven't taken off, she'd mistakenly cracked a joke about the earrings I used in the past to promote an image I needed at the time.

I felt a suitable revenge for the teasing would be to give her diamonds to wear on her own ears. While the square, emerald-cut stones are a good size, to keep with the 'overkill' description Steph uses whenever she mentions her engagement ring, the earrings each also have a small baguette diamond mounted over the large ones that are set on a white gold loop. She told me I shouldn't have ... and I disagreed. I even fought dirty to keep her from insisting they remain in the safe, suggesting our wedding would be the perfect time to wear them.

"I try," she said. "You know, if I wasn't already engaged to you, I'd put a ring on it right now. You're a pretty hot guy, especially when you're actually trying to be."

I'd changed into black pants and a Ella-starched white dress shirt. Steph wanted tonight to be a relaxed one, so I skipped the tie and left my collar undone with the hopes she'll feel the need to explore the area whenever my parents aren't watching.

"I'm glad you think so."

She walked over to me and her body shimmered as it caught and held the bedroom's light.

She put her arms around me but kept some distance so she could see my face. "After your family, my opinion of you really is the only one that matters, isn't it?"

"Yours comes even before them, Babe. Before anyone."

"You should've saved that for the vows," she teased, kissing me briefly before pulling back.

"I have those covered."

"You always have _everything_ covered. Is Tank riding with us?" She asked.

"No. He, Brown, and Santos, are 'carpooling' once their shifts end."

"Do they know anything?"

"Tank does. Smartass and Smartmouth don't."

She grinned. "This is going to be fun."

"That's what you wanted your wedding day to be. I believe your exact words were _casual_ and _fun_."

" _Our_ wedding day/night, you mean."

"I do."

"Again, save that for the vows," she said over her shoulder, as she walked out of our bedroom.

As always, my place was right behind her. Which reminded of the threat she'd issued after giving me my Christmas present. If I didn't ask Tank to cover for me so I could have some time off and accompany her on an already-booked weekend in a top-rated hotel over in West Orange, she'd go alone. I didn't want to scare her by admitting that I'd shut Rangeman down for forty-eight hours before I'd pass up an opportunity to make love to her with no interruptions for two straight days.

Her intention was for us to have a somewhat immediate honeymoon until I could plan, and get enough time off for, the one I want to give her. She'd stated that as long as I picked a place that's warm, she's not going to be picky about where we end up.

"Bye, Rex," she said to her rat, stopping to give him a few grapes from the fridge. Even the rodent's been eating better since moving in here. "When you see me again, we'll all be Manosos."

"I didn't extend the use of my name to include the furball."

"But I know how generous a guy you are. Plus Rex is too cute to exclude."

She continued to the door and I held her coat for her before slipping on my own. The elevator down to the garage and the ride to Newark was comfortably quiet. I needed my hands to drive, but I noticed she kept one of hers curled into my thigh, tightening her fingers on me randomly until I pulled up to the house I was literally born in. My mother, being the direct source of my independent nature, decided not to inform my father, or anyone else, that she was in labor until I was minutes away from joining the family.

"I still can't believe my Man In Black was born and raised _here_ ," Steph said.

It still surprises me, too. The three-story monster of a house has never changed color. My parents are both methodically thinkers, my mother being the worst one out of the two. It takes time for her to come to a decision, but once she makes it ... it's a lasting one. The pale yellow siding, huge wrap-around porch painted white, and coral-colored front door, does not look like a structure that would have produced _me_... something my mother still finds humor in. I'm as full of shadows as my family is filled with light.

"I was. And that window," I said, pointing to one on the second floor, two over from the front door, "is the one I broke when Celia was put in charge of me for about an hour and locked me out when I refused to listen her. I got back in and still refused to take orders from her."

"That explains your locking-picking skills. Now you can get into any place without leaving a broken window as evidence. Who got into trouble for that one?" Steph asked, making a move to get out of the car.

"We both did. _Stay_ ," I ordered her, and pocketed my keys as I slid out from behind the wheel of the Turbo.

I opened her door and offered her my hand. "I promise," she said, "I _can_ get out of a car all on my own. I was doing it for over thirty years."

"Three decades is a long time to be doing anything, so you don't need to continue doing it alone," I pointed out.

"You're impossible."

"Which is exactly how you like me."

"Yup."

She pressed a quick kiss to my jaw on the way by. She'd made it all the way up the shoveled sidewalk and onto the porch before I'd even beeped the car locked. My grin was smug when I caught her eyes. She didn't have to open the door to the house, either. My father beat her to it.

"There's my soon-to-be daughter-in-law," he said, circling her shoulders with a cashmere-covered arm, bringing her into the warmth of the house.

She glanced over at me, her eyebrows raised. I shook my head. I didn't tell them anything.

"Thanks for inviting me," she said.

" _Are you kidding!_ " My mother exclaimed, coming out of the kitchen. "You being here wasn't up for debate ... unless you had plans of whisking my son away for the holiday."

"The only whisking I'm doing is next weekend, or if you have some cream in the fridge in need of a kitchen tool and some elbow grease."

"You are _our guest_ tonight. You're here to eat, talk, and laugh, not _work_."

Steph put up both hands in surrender-mode. "Well, if you're going to twist my arm ... fine, I won't do anything except enjoy myself."

Mama Manoso beamed. "I loved you before, but even more right now. That was _exactly_ the right thing to say."

Steph's face took on a pink tinge from the love and praise, but her smile rivaled the brightness of the massive eight-foot tree in the living room. This year's tree theme I noticed was musical instruments. I offered to buy them a building just to store all the ornaments they've collected over the years. My parents laughed, thinking I was joking. I wasn't. Their basement and small attic contained floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with nothing except Christmas decorations.

The exterior of the house showcased my father's attention to detail, with small white lights strung precisely along every single straight edge and narrow peak. As usual, the front porch had been lit up enough for planes to consider landing in the front yard. The interior decorating is the result of my mother's handiwork. It's more subtle than what my father enjoys, but every bit as festive. There are pre-lit garlands around every door and window. And the flat surfaces not set aside for food were covered by Christmas villages, miniature trees, or large clear glass bowls filled with paper-thin, colored-glass ornaments.

Even with Christmas being over, 'Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas' was playing in the living room, and the way the house smelled, brought back memories of childhood holidays with the familiar scents of my Grandma Rosa's avocado egg rolls, homemade butter rolls that my mother uses to make small sandwiches, cinnamon, and freshly-brewed coffee.

"I'm never leaving here. It smells too good," Steph said to the room, as the rest of my family greeted her en masse.

"You're welcome to move in," my baby sister told her. "Mama is always complaining about coming home some days to an empty house."

"Your brother might have a problem with that arrangement."

" _He_ would," I agreed.

"This is quite a place you got here," Grandma Mazur said from the staircase she and Celia were coming down.

" _Grandma?!_ " Steph said. "You're _here_? You told me this morning that you had a hot date tonight?"

"She does," my brother informed her, materializing behind them and dropping a hand on one of Edna's bony shoulders. "I headed over to Trenton and rescued Edna from your parents' place. I was only there for a total of three minutes as I helped her get into her outdoor gear, and my brain was already short-circuiting from the noise the TV and your mother were generating."

"Sorry about that," Stephanie said to him. "She's not too happy with me right now. And she's never been thrilled with anyone having the last name _Manoso_."

"Don't apologize for her, Babe. She should be held responsible for her own actions and behavior."

"I didn't help matters by turning on the charm," my little brother continued. "Mrs. Mazur has been putty in my hands ever since."

I wanted to roll my eyes at that bit of ego-stroking, but I refrained. Stephanie didn't fight it, though.

My father disappeared briefly and came back with two glasses of ice-cold champagne for us. We exchanged our coats for the champagne and my fiancé was quickly separated from the herd and brought into the kitchen. If I don't remain vigilant, I know I won't get her back until midnight.

That fear was reinforced when Mary Lou and her husband arrived ten minutes later, followed by the men who have taken orders from me long before Rangeman was established. Both sets of grandparents took up residence on the sofas situated smack in the middle of the mayhem. They smiled at and engaged Steph in conversation whenever she brought them something or asked if they needed anything. She still occasionally questions their approval, but she shouldn't. The only people who have an issue with how impressive a woman she is, live in a narrow-minded, short-sighted section of Trenton.

As it got close to midnight, Tank left the hors d'oeuvre table that was being continuously restocked by a minimum of five people, and came back over to me.

"You still going through with this?" He asked.

"Do you think I'm stupid and would give her a chance to change her mind?"

"No. We wouldn't be alive right now if you played anything safe."

"What are you guys talking about?" Steph asked, attempting to divide her time equally between me and everyone else ... and failing, since I counted her being only with me for thirty minutes total out of almost five hours.

"We're discussing you marrying him," Tank said.

"Is there any possible reason why I wouldn't?"

"No," I said, to her this time.

"I've been wanting to ask, but I keep getting distracted by something ..."

"Or _someone_ ," I finished for her. "If my sisters aren't asking your opinion on shoes or movies, my mother is wanting you to taste something in the kitchen, or my grandfather is trying to convince you that baseball is a more enjoyable sport than hockey."

"It took awhile, but I think I've worn him down into seeing things my way. We're getting close to the Big 1...2, everyone I've talked to is part of your family or mine, where's the guy who's going to be marrying us? You told me you have someone lined up to do it."

"He's right here," Tank told her.

"Where?" She asked, making a big show of peeking around him where a smaller man could, in fact, be hiding.

"I did that online sign up shit. _He_ ," he said, moving his head in my direction, "has saved my ass more times than I want to remember. The least I can do is legally sign his over to you so you can save it."

"She already has," I admitted.

He and I locked eyes briefly, and years and battles passed between us. We've been through hell together, but we're starting to see the light at the end of what we were both afraid was going to be a literal dead end tunnel.

"I know," he told me. "Let's put another successful mission under our belts."

"Wait ... you're serious?" Steph asked. "You actually did that for us? On your own? You're going to be our priest-guy?"

"Yes," was his three-letter answer to her multiple questions.

"But you don't talk."

"Don't have to ... much. The vow-part is on _you_."

"No pressure," she said under her breath.

"Your chance to back out of this ceased to exist when you said you'd have dinner with me right after I'd asked you to take us seriously," I reminded her.

"One date ... and my fate was sealed?" She asked.

"Yes. It took just one introduction to you for my life to be completely altered, why should you have gotten off unscathed?"

She smiled. "Yup, I should definitely be sentenced to lifelong matrimony for using my Italian temper and genetic lack of patience to make you fall for me instantly. Can you do that silent hand raise to get the room quiet so we can tell everyone what's going on? And you have my ring with you, right?"

"Steph, breathe."

"I am. This is excitement, not nerves."

"Alright."

I showed her that I do have the ring I'd bought that matched the band of her engagement ring. What had me suddenly speechless was her pulling my future ring out from somewhere inside the snug-fitting top of her still sparkling red dress. While I'm not actually touching it, I know that small piece of metal is as warm as the gun had been when she'd pulled it out of her jeans a lifetime ago.

Ring-shopping _with_ Stephanie was an adventure ... and not in a _'where do you think you're going motherfucker_?' kind of way. Steph had preferred a hands-on approach and she was constantly grabbing mine to see which band fit me and my personality the best. After visiting three jewelry stores, she decided on a platinum, five millimeter matte band that had a polished indented groove running along the middle of it. It's not overly noticeable, but enough that anyone looking knows I'm ' _taken_ ' ... Steph's words, not mine.

"Did you write down your vows so you won't forget them?" I asked her.

"I wasn't kidding when I told you I was saying them in my sleep. I'm good."

I slid an arm around her waist and brought her to what I'd call the eye of the storm, the cross-section between the industrial-sized, walnut-cupboarded, stainless steel-applianced, kitchen and the subtle yellow-painted living room. Stephanie had guessed my mother's favorite color a second after she stepped through the door of my parents' house for the first time.

I lifted my hand and Steph smiled into hers as all conversation stopped.

"Uh ... everyone ... we have something to share with all of you ..." she started to say.

" _I knew it!_ " Brown shouted, slapping Santos on the back hard enough to leave an exact print of his hand. "We're gonna have _a baby!_ "

"No _we're_ not," Steph was quick to say, glancing nervously towards my parents and grandparents.

"Yeah," Lester said, "it's _their_ baby, we just get visitation rights."

"There's NO BABY. Cover your ears, Tank." He made no move to do as she requested, so she shrugged and finished her point. "I got my period three days after Ranger proposed, and since we're still technically in the same month ..."

Tank looked like he should've listened to her, and Lester, Bobby, and my brother, had their hands headed to their ears while they were in the process of shouting ... " _Stop!"_

"Clearly, the only babies here tonight are you guys," she told them.

"So no great-grandbaby?" Edna said. "Then what else do you got? I'm old, I could die before I hear whatever it is if you don't hurry this up."

"Are you keeping secrets from your best friend?" Mary Lou asked Steph.

"Yes ... I mean _no_."

I stepped in to take the heat of her. "Stephanie agreed to marry me ... and she also agreed with me about doing it here tonight."

"Hot damn," Grandma Mazur said.

" _Tonight?_ "Everyone else asked.

"Yep. Apparently, Ranger thinks we should butt into every family event and completely take it over."

"No reason not to," I told her.

"My son and I are in total agreement on that," my mother said. "I'm now really looking forward to Easter to see what you two come up with. When were you thinking of doing this?"

"We're going the 'cheesy' route and shooting for midnight, but your son promised that if we finish early, he'd just keep kissing me until twelve."

"That's my boy," my father said.

" _Boy?_ Not even close," my almost-wife said back.

"Focus, children," my mother told us, earning nods from the entire group of elders. "It's eleven forty-five. You have fifteen minutes. I'm assuming since I knew nothing about this ..." she shot me a look since she loves every aspect of family get-togethers and would have really enjoyed knowing about this one ahead of time, "someone will be knocking on the door momentarily?"

Now Steph smiled, causing a second round of heart/dick tightening for me. "He's already here. Tank's our officiate," she happily informed everyone.

" _No shit!_ " Was Brown's reaction.

"No _fu_ ..." was the beginning of Santos' comment until I stopped him.

"Unless you want your mouth washed out with soap by a little Cuban grandmother," I warned, "I'd stop there."

"This is exciting," Celia added. "Where should we stand or sit? More importantly ... where are you guys going to stand? We're fresh out of altars."

Steph cut her eyes to me. "Up to you, Babe," I told her.

"Okay. I think we should stand by the tree, with Tank near the fireplace so I can threaten to push him into it if he picks this moment to get back at me for some of the stuff I've put him through."

"He won't," I promised. "If he even considered it, dying by fire would be preferable to the punishment I'd come up with."

"Carlos, you know better than to threaten Pierre in that way," my grandmother admonished.

"Yeah, stop picking on poor _Pierre,_ " Bobby goaded.

One look of promised retribution from my second-in-command had him shutting his face before half of it got punched in.

Mary Lou, having been born and raised in the Burg, didn't feel comfortable with confrontations among family, so she spoke up. "I'm ready for a wedding ..."

"Us, too," three sisters chimed in.

"Bring it on," Celia couldn't help but add.

My brother shrugged. "There's still plenty of champagne and food, that should get me through it."

While my mother smacked the back of his head lightly, Steph whispered ... "This family is perfect for me."

"You're going to be part of it in a few minutes."

"That's all the incentive I need. Okay, Tank ... do your thing," she ordered.

We all moved into position and he got us from point A to point B. " _Tonight isn't just the overrated start of a new year, I get to join two special forces ... something we were all concerned wouldn't happen. This isn't only an important moment for these two, it's a huge step for Rangeman ..."_

"Hey, is this about _you_ and _the guys_ , or _me_ and _Ranger_?" Steph asked, but she was squeezing his forearm in a teasing way.

"It's a happy night/day for us all, Steph," Bobby told her. "Let him talk already."

"Can you guys be quiet so I can get this done and handed over to you?" Tank asked. She nodded and put both of her hands back in mine as he spoke again. " _We saw the sparks fly between them, got our asses burned if we pissed either of them off ..."_

"Real romantic, _Pierre_ ," Lester said. "With a name like that, you'd think you'd have a romantic streak the size of your Sasquatch feet."

"I could be finished here if you'd shut the F up."

My family tried not to laugh and failed miserably, but afterwards they smiled and made 'go-ahead' gestures with their hands. It's safe to assume that not one of them has seen a wedding quite like this one.

Exerting extreme patience, Tank tried again. _"We've all seen them get stronger ..."_

"It's impossible for Ranger to be any stronger than he already is," Stephanie felt compelled to say.

"Fuck it. I give up," he said. "You want to talk so bad? Go for it."

"We will ... but seriously, Tank, thank you for doing this for us. Okay, I'm going first," she informed us, "in case 'Romantic Ranger' attended the party and ruins my makeup."

"You have on waterproof mascara," I said. "I saw the label on the bottle lying on the bathroom vanity."

"Maybe I was talking about ruining my lipstick by kissing you repeatedly, not my eye makeup due to crying."

"That's preferable."

"Okay, here goes ..." she said. " _Every woman deserves to have her guy notice that she's having a bad day and immediately ask 'whose ass am I kicking today, Babe? I never thought about this before you, but I really don't want to be with someone who tells me I'm perfect. I need a man who loves me and promises to defend me ... flaws and all. Thank God, I found him. I like the woman I am now because you've helped me fight hard to become her."_ She paused, then started talking again. " _I don't see being married to you as 'a choice' anymore. Being your wife has become 'a necessity' to me ... like breathing and eating."_

"Interesting way to incorporate your love of junk food into your vows," Tank said, butting in.

" _Payback_?" She asked.

His eyes grinned even if his mouth didn't.

She turned back to me. "The gist of it is ... _I love you for never giving up on me, loving me even when I did give up on myself, and I know I'm going to love being your wife because_ _ **you**_ _are the one thing I've done really, really right in my life. I chose you months ago, I'm choosing to be yours tonight, and I'll continue to choose you over and over again ... without a doubt, with no hesitation, and pretty much forever._ Your turn."

"Top that if you can," Santos challenged.

As usual, I ignored him and did what my mother advised earlier. I focused solely on Stephanie. For the next few minutes, there will be no one else in the room.

" _Stephanie,"_ I began, not thinking about the words, more watching her face to see if she fully understands the meaning behind them, " _there are many things that you've given me ... restful nights when I was convinced I'd never have another one, is only the start of them. Just hearing your voice has gotten me through days when it was difficult just to breathe, let alone do my job. Knowing that you can love me through every kind of pain, has made it possible to go on and continue being who I am."_

I heard a sniffle but it didn't come from Stephanie. Though her blue eyes are overly shiny, she's doing a good job of containing her emotions. My mother, however, is bordering on becoming a stereotypical sobbing Mama at her child's wedding. When I'd been deciding what I wanted to say specifically to My Babe, I hadn't taken the reactions of my parents into consideration. My father was whispering something to his own wife and she sent me an embarrassed smile as she dried her eyes, mouthing the words ... " _I'm fine_ and _I love you_."

I started speaking again, but tried to get through it in one shot before someone else interrupted. " _When we met, I knew we'd always be together, whether that meant only as friends or just partners in the professional sense, because in different ways we were both apprehensive about more. I didn't understand our connection then and I still don't fully understand it now, but I've never appreciated it or you more. You've helped me forgive myself for not being the man I believe you deserve ..."_

" _Ranger_..."

"Let me finish, Steph. I promise it has a happy ending."

"I hope so, because you're killing me right now. I swear, if the company lied about my mascara being waterproof, I'm going to _kill them_. Make it quick or it's possible that I'll be crying like my almost mom-in-law was a few minutes ago."

I did as she asked. " _I love you and I can't lose you. Ever. If I did ... I'd lose the one person who makes me make sense, to the world and to myself ..."_

"As the bride, I'm allowed to officially end the vow part," she said, "because I really need to kiss you right now and I think the rings are supposed to be exchanged before the making out happens."

"They are."

"Get busy, Tank."

He snapped to attention, and in minutes declared us Mr. and Mrs. Ricardo Carlos _Ranger_ Manoso. At eleven-fifty-eight, I covered my wife's mouth with my own and kissed her for the remainder of the year.

 **A/N: Ranger and Stephanie's vows are a combination of a few different quotes I've seen and really like, along with my own words.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Everybody and everything familiar belongs to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone. Happy Easter a little early for those who celebrate it.**

 **Chapter 3**

 **Ranger's POV**

Holidays mean a lot to my parents, my mother especially. And Easter has always been her favorite. Now that Stephanie is officially a member of the Manoso clan, my Manoso Mama felt it was her duty to spoil Steph's nieces as if they are her own, which to her ... they are. So Easter Sunday is more chaotic than usual.

Instead of just the typical day-long celebration that began in the morning at Church and wouldn't end until it's completely dark outside - with plenty of food mixed in to prolong the mayhem - today also included an Easter egg hunt for anyone who wanted to participate ... except for my brother. He was banned from hunts at the ripe old age of six when he got busted for cheating after finding the detailed map my mother had drawn of where she'd hid all the hard-boiled eggs so there wouldn't be any unpleasant odors weeks after due to ones that were not recovered.

She and my sisters had bought out a few stores to created customized wicker baskets for Valerie's girls, with the chosen contents showing who they're intended for without the name tags being needed. Their favorite snacks, candy, shopping destinations, and hobbies, were discussed nightly with my wife all last week so the baskets would be finished by, and fully appreciated, today. And appetizers were made with everyone's participation, and just about all of them will cause cavities in more than one way.

A table the size of a football field held bunny-shaped breads, crudités placed - or fruit cut - to resemble Easter staples ... like rabbits and flowers. There were trays of hatching deviled egg 'chickens', and large cheese balls that look like carrots, decorated Easter eggs, or chicks, all surrounded by more vegetables and various chip options. And something disgusting made with white chocolate and jelly beans that Mary Alice called 'Bunny Bark'. Cute name or not, I'm not sorry that I paid Steph ten bucks not to eat it. Eight feet of food-space in this family could easily feed a small village for a week, but when that's pointed out ... my mother insists this is for grazing purposes only. I know from experience that dinner will be even bigger and definitely more caloric in nature.

To make the holiday complete, my mother had positioned the family Easter tree on the half-circle console table along the wall facing the front door. A close friend of my mother's, Tatiana, is artistic in general and in business, and she had started a gift tradition not long after she and my mother met. For a wedding present, since my parents tied the knot the Saturday before Easter that year, our future 'Aunt Tatty' had ornately painted two wooden eggs with their names on them. Both had ribbons strung through small screw eye hooks so they could be hung up if my parents chose to. When Celia was born, an egg was painted in her honor, then I received one of my own, as did each sibling that came after.

Soon after Celia's egg was painted, a realistic-looking wrought iron tree was bought specifically to display them. My mother took great joy in pointing out the newest one our honorary Aunt Tatty had painted. This one was a plum purple color with _Stephanie_ written in elaborate silver script diagonally across the front of it, and Tatty had 'dotted' the 'i' in Steph's name with a wedding ring to symbolize how our family has expanded. The small white roses painstakingly painted to appear as if they're real ones simply glued on didn't hold Stephanie's attention. Her name hanging among ours, and the tiny painted ring that had made it happen, is where her focus stayed until she was ushered into the center of a Manoso holiday storm.

"My mom-in-law is definitely in her element," Steph said out loud to everyone who could hear over all the activity.

Unlike our wedding here a few months ago, she's been by my side the majority of the time today. And to me, she's every bit as beautiful as she was on New Year's Eve. Her chosen outfit isn't as short or as tight, but the sleeveless, halter-style dress is just as sexy. The gauzy purplish-pink material had me wanting to test the strength of it by tearing it off her ... starting at the keyhole cut-out above her breasts all the way down the ruffled panels that give anyone watching the impression that she's floating whenever she moves.

"Who wants to dye some eggs?" Celia asked Steph's nieces.

"Me ... _me_!" Lisa said, almost leaving skid marks on the solid maple floor of the living room.

"Thank you," Valerie told her sister.

"What for?"

"For marrying Ranger and getting us an in into this family. This is the first family gathering where I've been able to relax and enjoy the party. I haven't had to do anything except get the kids in and out of the car."

"They're all great, aren't they?" Steph asked. "I used to say 'Ranger's family' when I bragged about them, but I've claimed ownership of them now."

"Just like you did with my men," I reminded her.

"Yup. When I spot something good, I want in on it. Want to color an egg?"

"No."

"I bet we can do a Batman one."

"No."

"You're cute when you make only one syllable."

"Babe."

" _See?_ You just got even hotter. You're like a talking 'adult toy' that I don't have to feel embarrassed about discussing."

Valerie sighed and Steph finished kissing the grin off my lips before turning towards her.

"What?" She asked her sister.

"You two are just too perfect together. I'm trying to decide if I'm going to throw up or punch you out of jealousy."

" _Thank ... you?_ " Steph said in a questioning tone.

"Don't mind me," Valerie said to her, glancing over to where my sisters and mother had set up an egg-dying station at the end of the front hall. "I love my Albert, but sometimes I wonder if he'd love anybody who does what I do for him."

"He's not Steve, Val."

"I know. But he's not 'Batman', either."

"That's not Kloughn's fault," my wife said. "You said so yourself, my guy comes from an impressive gene pool. Mere mortals aren't in his league."

" _Stephanie_... " I warned.

I tease her about her junk food addiction, and she gets back at me in other ways.

"You should be used to me saying how amazing you are," she told me. "I do it a lot."

"She really does," Valerie agreed. "If I wasn't so glad to see her so happy, I'd smack her."

A smart man knows when to abandon a mission that's heading south, but this one involves Stephanie so I'll ride it out.

"Albert may be a little 'pet-like', but he does love you and the girls, Val," Steph said to her.

"He was obsessed with _you_ first," she unfortunately reminded us.

"I was just the first Plum he saw, _you're_ the one he married despite his weird ceremony-phobia."

"I know, but a girl can dream about ... _more_."

"Sure she can ... or she can stand up for herself and insist she get what she deserves. If you aren't happy ..."

"I _am_ happy. It's just sometimes I'd be nice to be romanced a little."

Steph put up both hands. "I'm not touching that subject. It's one thing to smile as I say I experience high-caliber romance on a daily basis, it's another to talk about it in relation to Kloughn. Just tell him you want to be appreciated more."

"Yeah ... sure. I'll just say ... by the way, Albert, I wouldn't mind you paying more attention to me."

"Why _wouldn't_ you say that?" My wife asked. "Divorce proceedings and multiple custody hearings are way more uncomfortable than asking for what you want. Albert will probably love hearing that you want more time with him."

Mrs. Kloughn rolled her eyes and sighed again. "I'll keep that in mind."

"You should, Val. Angie and Mary Alice have been through enough ... losing their babysitter, their dad, and then moving cross-country to spend after-school hours with our parents. By the way, I wasn't kidding ... they're welcome at Rangeman anytime. Oh my God! Did your mother buy chickens?" She asked me, getting distracted from the conversation once the eggs were all pastel-colored and were being left alone to dry under Lisa's _'Look what I did!'_ smile.

I already know there are eggs hidden in the backyard for after dinner. Those are the plastic variety with glow sticks tucked inside them for easy hunting. Some are filled with clues or dares to earn a prize, and the rest held candy or toys for instant gratification. As I was being told all of this by my siblings before Valerie's family arrived, I'd glanced out my parents' kitchen window and saw a rabbit hutch - complete with a secure enclosure for convenient grass-access - that wasn't in their yard last week. The Easter Bunny isn't just visiting, it appears he and his family have moved in.

"I've learned never to put anything past her," I answered.

"I think you get your overkill gene from her."

"No doubt. A dozen chicks?" I asked my mother, after she set a large plastic bin down in the entrance way.

The small heating pad kept the poultry warm while they were away from the heat lamp, and apparently only God could keep the ' _chirps_ ' at a tolerable level. They're making more noise than the children and adults put together.

"Yes. Newark doesn't believe they fall into the family pet category," my mother informed me, "but I know someone who is into healthy living and is extremely picky when it comes to the eggs they choose to eat ..."

"I'm not taking them," I was quick in pointing out.

"But look how cute they are," my wife said, snagging a little brown one and holding it up near my face.

It ' _cheeped_ ' as if in agreement.

"I said nothing about _you_ , dear," my mother told me. "You know your Aunt Alexa's farm always has room for a few more animals. I wouldn't have rescued these little guys only to turn around and leave them homeless."

I used one finger to pet the thing on its head so Stephanie would give back custody of it to her nieces for the afternoon. Mary Alice chose to be the chicken-wrangler as Angie and Valerie supervised Lisa and my sisters who were all holding one, if not two, fluff-balls. I get my stubbornness from my mother as well as my 'overkill gene'. If she decides to keep the rabbits and all the chickens, there won't be anything The State can do about it.

"If Aunt Alexa can't take them, we can expand Rangeman and create an urban agricultural floor," Steph was saying.

"Not going to happen, Babe."

"You said something similar about marriage and looky here," she said, flashing her rings in my direction, "my finger seems to be sporting an engagement _and_ wedding ring."

"I really love this woman. You hang onto her, Carlos," my mother ordered me, before going to wash her hands in anticipation of beating dinner into submission.

Steph laughed at the absurdity of me _ever_ letting her go. We watched the girls play with the chicks until the slightly more mature Manoso ones surrounded Stephanie and dragged her off to the kitchen to taste test the smoked ham, flavored sour cream mashed potatoes, and also the pineapple casserole Grandma Rosa thought she'd enjoy.

The Manoso males were in charge of securing the livestock, setting the table, carrying anything heavy, and after that ... staying out of the way until dinner was declared ready. Steph returned to me periodically. Once to bring me a glass of wine. Another time was to give me a bite of a cheesecake-filled strawberry that has become an instant snack favorite for her. The last time was just for a kiss which caused my baby brother to run his mouth until Steph elbowed him hard enough to shut it.

My parents don't believe in a 'kid's table', so the girls were settled in-between all the adults. Once their plates were fixed, my mother went about overfilling everyone else's. After Grace was said, only Steph and I reached for our forks ... nobody else was moving.

"What's going on?" She asked me.

"I don't know, but with this family ... it can't be good."

" _Well?_ " My father asked.

"Well, what?"

"What's this holiday's big announcement?" My mother asked us.

"We don't have an announcement," I assured them.

" _Sure_ , you don't," Celia said.

"We don't. We're already married, we have no plans to move yet, and you all know Steph quit working for her cousin last month. There's nothing new."

"Ummm, I might have something to announce," Steph said, once I was finished speaking.

That surprised me, but I didn't let it show. "Such as?" I asked her.

"I think I want one of those," she said, gesturing towards what I thought was the table.

But her plate is full of the stuff she loves, and I don't see her wanting any of the sides that she'd already left behind.

"You want a salad?"

"Of course not. I may have changed my thinking about a couple of things, but _not_ on vegetables. They're still eaten on a 'need-to' basis. I meant, I think I want an actual baby. They weren't kidding about being around them makes you want one."

"I'm going to have another grandchild?" My mother asked Steph.

"I don't know," she said. "It's not up to just me, since I wouldn't even consider it unless he or she is half Manoso. It's just that I think there should be more Rangers in the world ... and I don't mind being a carrier for one."

Steph looked at me.

"Are you serious?" I asked.

"Depends. Will you divorce me if I say yes?"

"No."

"Then, okay. I'm serious. I'm starting to want a little you or Julie."

"Holy Crap, Steph!" Valerie said. "Mom's going to have a heart attack. First you get married at a party here and now you're announcing over dinner that you're going to start a family?"

"We're _already_ a family, but yeah. Ranger likes to add excitement to every get-together. I didn't want to disappoint."

I leaned in close and kissed her curls. "You never do, Babe."

"Besides, if Mom hadn't been so snippy when I asked if you guys wanted to spend Easter with us, she'd be here hearing the news herself. It's bad enough Grandma felt she had to sacrifice herself and Kloughn so Mom could have 'guests' and would stop slamming pots and pans around."

"Everybody _always_ spent holidays at her house," Valerie pointed out. "She's not good with change of any kind."

"Believe me, I know that. And for once I wasn't purposely trying to piss her off. I just know what usually goes on here for Easter and I thought the girls would enjoy playing with whatever Mama Manoso came up with, which happened to be bunnies and chicks this time. Your kids were also able to dye eggs their own way without someone telling them they're too old to do it or that it's too messy."

"She did say that last year, didn't she? I forgot about that."

"I didn't. And _here_ , the girls were actually allowed in the kitchen so they could decorate sugar cookies just for fun while dinner was being finished, instead of being told to sit like statues on the couch, watching their Grampa stare at the TV until their Grandma says it's time to eat. Let's not forget how dinner would likely have subjected them to some major bickering. Today, they had fun. Before they head home, they'll play in an actual backyard with grass already growing in it. And they all seem happy with their dinner and the rainbow layer cake they get to have for dessert. Right, girls?"

After a round of ' _yeahs_ ', Steph continued on.

"Plus, you got a break while we got to spend more time with them."

"It'll be an early bedtime tonight, I'd guess," my mother told us. "Speaking of that ... " she locked eyes with me, "if you and Stephanie would like to leave early ... it's possible you two could have another announcement to make on Mother's Day."

" _Mama M_. _!_ " Steph exclaimed, her face turning a similar shade as her dress.

"I'm not trying to put you on the spot. I'm just stating that I'd much rather you spend your time putting a bun in the oven at home than putting away dishes here."

"I'll buy you a new car for Christmas if you stop now," I told the Manoso Matriarch.

"Too late," my father added. "The seed's been planted."

Steph cut her eyes to me. " _Two_ cars it is for Christmas," she said. "And an early bedtime for us tonight."

I unflinchingly met her gaze and she nodded as a reply. That settled it for me. If we don't have a baby officially underway by May ... it won't be for lack of trying.


	4. Chapter 4

**Everybody familiar belongs to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone. Steph's gift choice is a saying I saw online, I just put it onto something. Happy Mother's Day to all the Moms out there.**

 **Chapter 4**

 **Ranger's POV**

"Good morning, Babe," I told my wife, feeling her come awake in my arms.

She was facing away from me, but I could still see the smile slowly creeping across her face.

"It is a _very_ good morning and it hasn't even begun yet."

"I've been up for awhile, so it began an hour ago for me."

That caused her to turn over and aim a smile directly at me. "And what have you been doing for that hour?"

"Holding you."

She stretched in my arms. "And you're extremely good at that."

"I do try to get in as much practice as I can."

"It shows ... so I suppose I should work on upholding my end by holding you more, don't you think?"

"I have something for you ..." I started to say, but she rolled onto me and sank herself down onto my dick before I could finish my sentence.

Waking up hard beside, under, or behind, her every morning isn't as uncomfortable as one would assume.

Her eyes slid closed again. "Yep, you definitely have _something_ for me, which is why I stopped complaining about being awake before noon."

All conversation fled my mind as she ground her hips slowly back and forth, and up and down, until I had no choice but to spill everything I had into her.

"Promise me this won't change," she whispered, after she collapsed onto my chest and a full five minutes had passed as our thoughts returned.

"I've _never_ been able to get enough of you, Steph. I doubt it'll happen now that I get to try on a daily basis."

"We have two hours before we're expected in Newark, care to try again in the shower?"

As I suspected, letting her express her sensuality her way instead of demanding she perform on command like some assholes do, only enhanced it. I've been reaping the rewards from it ever since. She took my shirt to cover herself with as she left our bed, but she didn't button it on the way to the bathroom. I stayed naked just so I could catch her before she shed the shirt in favor of the shower. Why have her waste energy stripping when I'm here to offer assistance?

We managed to get into - and out of - the shower with forty minutes to spare, and I fixed us a light breakfast as Steph started to cover up again for brunch at my parents' house. Mother's and Father's Day are a huge deal in the Manoso family and Steph didn't want to miss any second of it.

We were scheduled to leave the Rangeman building at nine to arrive when the insanity had died down a little. Steph has yet to accuse me of it, but I purposely give her all the time I can with my parents so she'll understand that hers aren't the norm. They're more like the _abnormal_ the more I've learned about them. Helen avoided a possible invitation turndown by just stating that she was sure we had other plans and she was 'perfectly fine with that'. No one bought it. Though we all know Stephanie does prefer Newark to The Burg, it didn't lessen her desire to have the same kind of relationship with her family that she has with mine.

She put on a brave face as well as a little makeup, and walked into the kitchen like a breath of sexy Spring air. Her eyes were already sparkling. Her white dress is fitted and then flared and pretty simple, but looked incredible on her with its slight V-neck and just a hint of sleeves. And in her hand was her own gift for her mother-in-law that isn't a requirement, but will no doubt make my mother cry as much as our joint one will have her smiling.

She had only a few bites of the bagel and fruit I placed in front of her, but she quickly tried to reassure me. "No one can toast a bagel like you," she said, "but I want to make sure I have plenty of room for whatever's at your parents' place. You guys put out a spread that'd be criminal to pass up. We're definitely getting there sooner from now to help out more. I feel guilty just arriving and eating."

I don't know how much of that is truth or how much is fake bravado, but she was ready to go so I put off questioning it until we were back home. She kept a hand on my thigh as I drove us to Newark and reached for my hand as we left the Turbo. She let go of me when we got to the door that had just opened for us.

"Why are you looking at us that way?" Steph asked her.

The door had been thrown open quickly, but instead of stepping to the side so we could enter, my mother was just standing there blocking the way and staring at us.

"You look like you've _lost_ weight," she told Steph. "You haven't gained _a thing_."

"Ummm, isn't that what most women want?"

" _Not_ if you were hoping to become pregnant."

My wife cut her blue eyes to me. "I _have_ been getting more exercise lately. Maybe that's what you're seeing, more _muscle tone_... less _doughnut residue_."

"I didn't want to put any pressure on you, but I admit, I was praying you'd have something to tell me today. I know the two of you, and you _would_ keep a secret just because I mentioned a specific day to make the big announcement on."

"We _do_ want to tell you something," I said.

Her face immediately brightened. "You do? Oh I'm so happy. Wait ... I should get your father first."

"Why? _You're_ the one we want to say Happy Mother's Day to."

Steph nudged me in a 'behave yourself' way.

"That's all?" A confused Mama Manoso asked.

I bent my body and kissed her cheek before I moved us all into the house. "What were you expecting?"

"To hear that _you're expecting_ ," my father said, catching the last part of our conversation.

My mother's eyes narrowed. "There's still time. Stephanie hasn't said much, so I'm not giving up hope."

"Do you really believe one comment from me can alter what your son does?" She asked my parents.

"Yes," one said.

"You're likely the _only_ one who has any influence over what he does," my father added.

"Could you two tag team him and convince _him_ of that. I swear I need a nap after trying to persuade him to come around to my way of thinking."

My mother circled her waist and took her away from me. "You come over as often as you'd like, because you just make me love you even more with each visit."

"You might as well consider yourself here today solo," my father joked. "Stephanie is going to have a hell of a time getting away from her."

"I already planned for the inevitable," I told him.

"There are no farm animals to keep you entertained this time ... unless you want to head outside. We kept the bunnies, but the chickens flew over to your Aunt Alexa's farm."

"Pass," I stated.

"Alright then, you can help me get the last of the grub on the table. Your sisters and brother have been busy."

"And I've been slacking."

"Maybe I overhead one or two complaints similar to that, but I know all to well about having a wife you'd like to spend every moment you can with, while you still try not to neglect your business. You don't have a lot of free time to make flowers out of food."

He's giving me a pass, but Steph and I already know that we'll be helping out more than we have in the past. I gestured for him to enter the cook's den first, but at least I was able to keep Steph in sight by helping to arrange what's left.

She was almost salivating at what had been made for today's holiday feast. Wonton wrapper spinach/tomato/sausage/and cheese quiches, cherry tomato and feta tulips, miniature raspberry and cream-equivalents of cinnamon rolls, pink grapefruit mimosas as well as freshly squeezed orange juice, a stacked crepe cake, and tiny cupcakes with icing roses that formed a bouquet when placed on their platter, took up only one half of the 'buffet'. Ham and Swiss croissant sliders, a lemon and blueberry bagel casserole ... and its savory counterpart made with eggs, sausage, and hashbrowns, were on the other side of the table. Along with a 'dessert' waffle bar with enough toppings to make you rethink eating again until after winter.

"If I ever get sick enough to need one," Steph told me, once everything and everybody was in the dining room, "don't agree to a feeding tube. Just wheel my gurney here and I'll revive myself when I smell what's been cooked or baked here."

"I'll make a note of it next to the resuscitate or I'll kill you order."

She grinned at me.

As per tradition, my father, siblings, and myself if I was on leave at the time, handled the cooking and preparation of the Mother's Day brunch. In theory, it was so our Mama would get a break, but really she spent the entire time anyway fussing over everyone and everything. She appreciates the _idea_ of being pampered more than the act itself, and ended up doing more than she should to help out.

"Celia?" Steph asked me, pointing to the letters M, O, M, displayed on the china cabinet a few feet from the head of the table.

The letters started out hollow, but the two 'M's were now filled with cut pink roses, while the 'O' contained white ones _._

"Yes. Flowers always scream Celia."

"Or they scream _MOM!_ in this case," she said, putting both arms around me for a quick hug.

Aunt Tatty isn't the only one who's into creating memorable gifts. Ever since she was old enough to come up with her own presents for our parents, Celia has done something that involves flowers for our mother, knowing her love for them. It began at thirteen and she continues to this day with flower-based Mother's Day gifts. A few of the more memorable ones were a topiary 'tree' made out of greenish-white hydrangeas. One year had produced a massive wreath for the front door which appeared to be nothing except pink, coral, and white, tulips. And one of her gifts that is still talked about is an arrangement of carnations that resembled an actual puppy.

There's an annual chore-bet between every family member except the flower-giver about whether her gift that year would be dried and placed inside a keepsake book, if it'd stay in its painted pot inside the house, or if it will be replanted in the backyard in what we now call the Mother's Day garden. However Celia chose to present her flowers, my mother figured out a way to remember it. Despite all the thought, work, and history, behind Celia's selections, my gift to our mother this year will top them.

Steph still doesn't believe that her 'simple gift' will be as appreciated as much as our joint one, but she got up with a purpose and then returned to the table. She nervously handed the red anemone paper-wrapped box to her 'honorary mom' once everyone's dishes were completely covered with food and my family was well on its way to a carb coma.

"You know that I don't require gifts from my children," she was told.

"I believe that as much as I believed you when you stated you don't give out large gifts," I pointed out. "Where are our grandparents right now?"

"Likely on the deck of a cruise ship, sipping mimosas under the sun."

"And who provided tickets so the four of them could go on their bucket list trips?" I pressed.

"My ... what pretty wrapping paper you chose," she said, changing the subject.

My babe smiled over at me and tapped my shoulder with hers as my mother opened the gift Steph wanted to give her before our joint one.

"It's not much," my wife said, trying to downplay the emotion behind the simple plaque, "but when I saw it, I immediately wanted to buy it just so I could give it to you."

"Come over here and give me that beautiful face of yours," she ordered, after she read what she pulled out of the gift box. "Your cheek is getting a kissing for this." Once Steph was released from her thanks-getting, my mother smiled. "I had help making and raising Carlos, but you have no idea how proud I get whenever someone tells me how great one - or all - of our children turned out."

"What does it say?" My father asked.

My mother cleared her throat dramatically as if she was about to address Congress. "Our dear Stephanie paid us and Carlos the best compliment with her gift. It says ...' _All the while my love for your son has grown, you've treated me like I'm one of your own. This is more than I could ever have dreamed, your kindness has really meant so much to me. So thank you for all that you have said and done, and thanks for the way that you brought up your son'."_

"Come here, Stephanie," my father added, "you're getting kissed again. You are most welcome and thank _you_ for acknowledging what we put into creating such incredible people. We love our children and grin like complete idiots whenever it's said that we raised them right."

"It is said _a lot_ ," the backbone of our family bragged, "that we did good when it comes to our children."

"You did everything right," my wife said. "They couldn't have turned out better."

"Steph could be talking about me," my brother said, being a smartass. "Carlos was mentioned, but _I'm_ also your son."

"It _would_ fit you," Steph assured him, "but my love for you peaked at ' _like a brother_ '. Honestly, though, I've never been happier to be included in someone's family."

"You _are_ a Manoso, Steph," Celia told her. "Though you may not want to be once Father's Day rolls around. If you think Mama's emotional, you haven't seen _him_ on _his_ day."

"I'm tough. I think I can handle it."

"Are you tough enough to give the second gift, Babe?"

Her eyes shot to mine as utensils simultaneously stilled. "Absolutely. Stay sitting, I'll get it."

And she left the table again momentarily to retrieve the other box we'd brought, which is only one of many decorating the dining room furniture in between mylar balloons, 'I Love You'/'Happy Mother's Day' banners, and the requested and expected picture from each of us of our favorite moment from that year so far, which is the tradition my mother started for her special day. The second gift from us was wrapped in dark blue paper with white lilies splashed across it. Any minute now, I expect bees to start banging themselves into the panes of the windows just to get at the gift table.

"What have you both gone and done now?" My mother asked.

"We've done something that I think will make you extremely happy."

"I just _knew it!_ " She exclaimed, but her smile took on a frownish air when she held up the watercolor painting that I'd had commissioned just for her.

Her dark eyebrows stayed stuck at the top of her forehead. "A painting of a house?"

"Yes. Did you notice what's written at the end of its driveway?" I asked her.

" _Casa De Manoso_."

"We're moving," I told the table of brunch attendees.

"For the _weekends_ anyway," Steph clarified. "Ella and the guys were threatening mutiny if we moved completely out of the Rangeman building."

My parents were staring hard at the two-story, gray-siding building, which had a cream and gray brick-covered entrance. It's sitting on a half-acre of land and has a fenced yard and paver-lined driveway. I watched the puzzle pieces slowly fall into place one by one until their eyes came back to me when they both figured it out.

"This looks an awful lot like ..."

"It is," I told them. "We bought the Chaffer house."

" _You're_ the reason for the quick 'Sold' sign?" She asked.

"Yep," Steph answered. "When he first brought me here to meet you, I made the mistake of saying I love the way that house looked, and that it must be nice to have a big backyard like that to enjoy in the summer. So once your elephant-memory son heard it was for sale, he swooped in before anyone else could make an offer. Knowing him, he overpaid just so it'd be ours as soon as possible."

"You're actually going to be living three houses away from us?" Was my father's question.

"Yes," I told him. "For part of the week. You'll finally have all of your kids living in Newark again in some capacity. Happy Mother's Day, Mama."

I knew she'd be happy, but I hadn't been expecting her to be so overcome with emotion that she'd abandon her chair and rush us. My skin felt bruised from the force of her kiss and Steph was attacked yet again.

"The main reason we're moving into the neighborhood is so we'll have babysitters close by after our baby is born," I told my family to quiet the multiple conversations our upcoming move produced.

"I want our little Manoso to grow up exactly like _your Carlos_ and _my Ranger_ did," Steph added. "So a house in the same neighborhood, almost next door to you, seemed like a sure bet on that happening."

The sudden silence hurt my ears, but it didn't last long. I was questioning if my protective skills are suddenly slipping, because I really should've waited until my mother was away from my wife before sharing _that_ news. I'm now concerned for my new family before the newest member actually arrived. Steph was pulled to her feet and hugged hard before being held at arm's length and scrutinized.

" _You're pregnant?!"_ She was asked by at least five relatives.

"Yes. A home test claimed it and my doctor confirmed it on Friday. Apparently skipping dishes was a good idea since things happened pretty quickly."

"I've never been so happy to share my day with someone," almost-Grandma Manoso said. " _A baby!_ Plus new neighbors that will include Julie when she visits."

"I get my foresight from you," I told her. "You'll have two grandchildren within walking distance."

"I love being here," Steph added. "And I'm more than just a little nervous about becoming a mom. Combine that with the love I already had for that house ... and your son figured living nearby would be the ideal solution."

"He gets his smarts from me," Papa Manoso said.

He got a playful whack which caused everyone to laugh through their happy tears.

"I'll tell and teach you everything you want to know ... and more," my Mama promised. "So much so, you'll run to lock your door when you see me coming."

"Not likely. You're welcome anytime," Steph told her. "You all are. I've been scared about what kind of mother I'll be, but with all of you supporting us and dropping by whenever you can, I'm beginning to worry less."

"You have nothing to worry about, Babe. You're one of the most caring people I've ever met. Any child would be lucky to be one of yours, just as I'm lucky that you agreed to be my wife."

"Are you trying to induce morning sickness?" My baby brother teased.

"No. Just stating a fact. If you ever trick someone into putting up with you long term, you'll understand."

His grin was a genuine one. "Congrats, Bro."

"Thank you."

"I guess what Stephanie wants, Stephanie gets?" He asked, in a relatively non-annoying way.

"You could say she does," my wife answered. "I wanted your brother and I got to marry him. I've always wanted to be part of a loving family, and I have all of you now. I wanted a baby and it seemed Ranger did, too. If it weren't for you guys, I may never have realized what I did want ... so although it's Mother's Day, I want to thank each of you for accepting me, our marriage, and now our baby ... who I know is going to love having all of you for aunts, an uncle, and grandparents."

"I have loved each Mother's Day I've been blessed to have had since I first became one," our matriarch told us, "but today ... knowing all of you will be only minutes away, and learning that there's a new child coming, puts this one in the Mother's Day Hall of Fame for me."

It's one of my favorite days as well. I'm able to give my favorite Manoso women something only _I_ can. For my mother, it's even more family ... next door to her for emergency spoiling purposes. And for my wife, it's a home she already feels happy in and a family of our own to fill it with.

I had to do something for Stephanie's first Mother's Day as an official Mom of two ... Julie and our baby in-progress. The gift I tried to give her in bed before she 'distracted' me, which she had me immediately put on her after I did manage to give it to her, was my heart on a chain. It was covered in poppy seed-sized diamonds to symbolize how big our baby is right now. Inside the heart-shaped locket is Steph's favorite picture of Julie and I together. My daughter's arm was around me as her free hand gave me a high-five in celebration for duping Lester into paying for everyone's pizza that night. The other side of the heart remains empty as we wait to fill it with the first image of everything we never thought we'd have ... but now do.


	5. Chapter 5

**All of the gifts that were given, or a slightly different version of them, can be found online. Everybody and everything familiar belongs to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone.**

 **Chapter 5**

 **Ranger's POV**

I honestly believed the day couldn't get much better just because Stephanie and I were both awake in our new home early enough to enjoy each other without rushing. Breakfast was an intimate one prepared by her. She tried keeping it healthy with overnight banana nut oatmeal, sweet potato breakfast bowls, and whole-wheat bread roll-ups containing peanut butter, pickles, and avocado. It isn't hard to tell what Ella coached her on and what she freestyled. Just this once, I was happy to be a Guinea pig sitting only feet from her rat as long as she was eating alongside me.

I'm not naive and I didn't think her putting together a meal outside of a sandwich or opening a bakery box as the end of her Father's Day surprises. I became even more suspicious when she offered to clean up alone before reappearing in the office doorway a little while later _after_ an unscheduled walk to my parents' house and back.

"Yeah," I heard Steph whisper, "he's right here and I'm holding it as we speak."

"I can hear you, Babe. What are you up to now?"

"Hang on a sec," she said. She pulled her cell away from her ear and tried to keep our conversation from being overheard by placing it against her chest. "Julie wanted to surprise you so if you could just switch off the sonar for a minute and let your daughter show her love for you, it'd be appreciated by both of us."

In normal circumstances, someone attempting to scold me wouldn't end well for them, but this being a special case, I allowed it to continue with what Steph calls a hundred-watt smile about to break free.

"Okay," she told Julie, "you ready? I'm putting your dad on now and handing him your gift."

They appear to really enjoy working together to ambush me and I'm not willing to spoil their fun in trying to 'spoil' me.

"Hi, Dad," I heard through the line. "Happy Father's Day!"

"Thank you. It'd be a better one if you were here. What are you doing?"

"I'm talking to you," she answered. " _Duh_."

"I know what _you're_ doing, my question was directed at Stephanie, who looks to be trying to execute a magic trick using her face alone."

"Haven't you heard of those facial exercises that people are supposed to do to keep wrinkles from forming?" My wife asked me.

"No. And you wouldn't need them if they do exist."

She leaned over my desk chair to kiss me for the compliment. "Thank you. And this present is from Julie. Happy Father's Day from her."

"Are you opening it?" My daughter prodded.

"Yes."

" _Well?_ Do you like it?"

I unwrapped a box containing a new smartphone. "You got me a new phone?"

"Sorta. Steph talked to Hector and figured out what an upgrade to your super-secret one is. So technically it's _her_ gift to you."

" _Is not!_ " My wife emphatically stated. "This is the brainchild of your child, I just helped out where I could." I eyed her suspiciously. "Stop with the stare. I swear, I'm innocent until proven innocent here."

"She's not totally innocent," Julie added. "This morning when she told you she was cleaning up breakfast, she snuck over to Grandma's and took the picture that's now the background of your main menu."

Steph moved closer and I got the same feeling in my stomach as when you hear the word " _Duck!_ " screamed at you.

"Are you looking at it?" My daughter asked me.

"Yes. And it looks like it was taken in your grandmother's kitchen where she shouldn't be allowing you to lick beaters coated in raw cake batter."

"The batter was safe. The eggs told me they didn't contain salmonella. It _is_ grandma's kitchen and I'm heading out of it with her right now. We'll be at your house in about two minutes if we walk real slow."

"How?" I asked, looking at Steph while still speaking to Julie.

"Steph and I pinky swore that we wouldn't divulge the details."

"Someone is going to have to explain. You're supposed to be visiting in two weeks."

My wife was half sitting/half leaning against the arm of my chair so Julie could hear her as she spoke. "I'll spill," she volunteered. "Like you said to me on _Mother's_ Day, _Father's_ Day is also a special day, and you deserve to have your daughter with you for it. I've never gotten a handle on patience ... and I didn't want to wait for us to see Julie. If we're careful, we can get in a bonus surprise with your dad, since he doesn't know she's in Trenton."

"I said I wish I could be in two places at once, and Steph hinted that if I suggest I have Father's Day in Miami on Saturday, maybe I could get my Miami Mom and Dad to agree to let me spend Sunday with my Trenton ones. She was right. Saying I really want to be part of your life, and that I didn't want to be left out of the family you're starting, made them cave. So Uncle Tank flew down and got me yesterday. He told me to tell you not to fire him for not telling you ... so DON'T FIRE HIM. To keep me a surprise for Grandpa, I was at Aunt Celia's until Grandma could sneak away and come get me. And here I am," she finished as our new doorbell chimed.

"God, I love that kid," Steph said. "Impeccable timing must run in the family."

We both got up to greet our 'guests'. Having my daughter hugging me tightly, with my wife keeping an arm around both of us, as my mother looked on with tears in her eyes, is one of those ' _remember for a lifetime_ ' moments.

"Are you surprised?" Julie asked.

"Yes. Although it doesn't happen often ... I'm happy that I was."

"You're not mad?" Steph asked me.

"Did you think I would be about getting to spend time with my daughter?"

"No, but my hormones are screwing with my rational, so I wasn't a hundred-percent sure."

"I still can't believe you're pregnant," Julie told her.

"I can't, either. I blame your grandparents, my nieces, and the baby chickens. I was hit over the head with a kind of cuteness I couldn't defend myself against."

"You look pretty ..."

"Yep ... pretty big."

"You are not. I was going to stop at pretty, but you also look really happy."

"And beautiful," I added.

"Mother's Day was _last_ month, I should be flattering _you_ today," she said to me.

"I'm not flattering you. I'm telling you the truth. What did I have to hear Bobby repeat after he played chauffeur when an apprehension made me late for your doctor's appointment?"

" _What?_ " Both my mother and Julie asked together.

"It's nothing," she told them.

"It was to me. I don't appreciate anyone saying what they'd like to be doing with or to my wife's anatomy."

"Uh-oh," Mama Manoso said to her granddaughter.

"Bobby made sure my honor, ears, and body, were defended," Steph continued. "You're still mad about it because you didn't get to 'speak to' the guy yourself."

"I am. I'm a better deterrent than any of my men."

"You are, Dad, but Steph can take care of herself you know."

"I do know that, because I've taught you and her well."

"You did," my wife told me. "For future reference, I _do_ like the fact that you still want to do everything in your power to protect us."

"That isn't going to change," I warned them. "It's likely only to get worse."

"We know ... don't we, Julie?"

"Yep. And it makes me happy to think about how much we, and whoever's in there," she said, reaching her hand out towards Steph's stomach, "will appreciate it, too."

"There's no choice. It's who I am."

"We love that about you ... and we love _you_ ," my daughter assured me.

"We agree again," Stephanie told her. "How about you help me get the food organized before your Grandma tries to steal you away from us?"

"I've got it, Babe. You two can stick to present arrangement."

She rolled her eyes at me. "I'm _pregnant_ , not _incapacitated_. I can handle taking stuff out of the pantry or fridge and putting it on plates."

She did more than that. Before my mother got her to agree to let her take over, half of the food, seating, and decorations, were in place. I'd paid extra to have our new home repaired, repainted, and furnished, as soon as it was legally ours, so there wasn't much to do except to group tables and chairs together to accommodate a gathering of Manosos and the amount of food it takes to feed them. Steph and I decided to stick to neutral colors, neither of us wanting anything 'eye-popping', which was her description of a few of the paint chips we looked at. And she had no complaints about the furniture being handcrafted from stained hardwood that stuck to more classic than modern design.

The interior transitioned from beige, into a complementary gray shade, to warmer colors as you make your way upstairs. Julie's room is purple, the upstairs bathroom is blue, and our bedroom is a calming shade of green. We already agreed that the nursery will be painted to represent day and night to provide contrast, color, and peace, to anyone inside it.

Once all the paint was dry, and the furniture in its final resting place, Steph shared that she enjoyed the idea of our home appearing 'schizophrenic' ... what company sees versus what we experience privately. I wasn't concerned about how our house looked, and I was willing to go along with anything that made her happy or had her relaxing. She puts on a good show, but I can tell she's still worried about how she'll handle being pregnant and all that comes once she no longer is.

My mother's phone went off, playing _'I Can't Help Myself (Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch_ ) by the Four Tops.

"Your father," she needlessly told us. She answered the call and used a fair amount of " _I know, Dears_ " and " _Why do you think I'm hiding something?_ " deflections. She ended the call with a patient sigh and then turned back to us. "Figures, I ask your brother to keep him entertained while I pick up Julie from Celia's and help out a little here, and they've both reached their limit. I'll go settle them down and then bring them over. Your father didn't appreciate being picked up with no clear destination stated while being told repeatedly _'I don't know anything'_ when he already suspected that something's up, but he'll get over it once he sees our beautiful Julie."

She kissed us all and then disappeared right before the Manosos not only circled our home, but invaded the entire interior of it. Celia got back at us for teasing her more than usual this year about her flower gifts, so she made sure our father had flowers on his day, too, but his were made out of bacon for enjoyment in a different way than what our mother prefers.

When our mother went to go meet our dad at home and then come back with him for his own surprise-by-Julie, we got busy greeting my siblings and grandparents and getting everyone to stop talking long enough to start working. Once again, the Plums were a no-show. News of our house purchase near _my parents_ in Newark instead of next door to _hers_ in the Burg, didn't go over well. Not wanting more to deal with right now, Steph decided to wait to tell them she's pregnant until after she feels confident enough being so to put up with Helen's opinion on that, too.

She's learned how to disguise her bump with clothing or objects held in front of it when she ventures out, so she was able to drop off a gift for her dad without more than receiving a quick 'maybe you should go easy on the doughnuts' comment before we decided we'd been in the Burg too long already. I'd prefer to enact my own version of a restraining order on my wife's behalf against anyone who hurts or annoys her, but this marriage isn't a dictatorship so I'm waiting not-so-patiently for her go-ahead.

"Can you believe we have a kitchen that's as big as our bedroom at Rangeman?" Steph asked me, while Julie and my baby sisters set up the 'cake station'.

"Yes."

"Stupid question to ask _you_ , since you believe _anything_ is possible."

"Clearly anything _is_ possible, since you got my mother to agree to let us use _our home_ for a Father's Day party instead of hers."

She looked guilty as well as trying to appear innocent again. "I may have fought dirty and mentioned that this is your first Father's Day not as just a father ... but a dad and daddy-to-be, too. And I might have added that it'd be really special to celebrate that in your first real home since theirs - penthouse apartments in your company's buildings don't count. I may have also pointed out that you're now a dad on the same street you played on with your own father. I thought I was hormonal, but she was dabbing her eyes with the collar of her shirt and trying to sniffle softly by the time I finished pleading my case."

As my mother stated last month, this is a day that will go down in _my_ Hall Of Fame of days. Not only did my wife give me unexpected time with my daughter, a phone, along with a sexy game of truth or dare for some after hours celebrating tonight, she also gave me a present wrapped in rattle, diaper, and bottle, paper from what's growing inside her. It was a sterling silver keychain that had two silver tags attached. The larger round one said ' _Daddy, although we haven't met yet, there's no question that you're going to be an amazing Father._ ' The second oblong-shaped tag had the words ... ' _Love, Your Offspring_ '. The internet is good, but shopping while in utero isn't possible yet, so I have her to thank for multiple gifts this year.

"Mama Manoso wouldn't have given in for anyone except you," I told her now.

"She does seem to like me."

"Why wouldn't she?" I asked, pulling her away from the counter where she was putting a bow on today's gift.

Steph believes she's gained weight just by announcing she's pregnant, but I can barely see it, even when I have her naked on or under me, or during times like these when my arms are holding her close.

"When the people who created you seem to regret that they did 90 percent of the time, it makes you question why anyone else would like you, when even the ones who are supposed to ... _don't_."

"Not everyone has exquisite taste, Babe," I said, plastering her black and black and white floral pregnancy-friendly-dressed body to me. "Me, Julie, my employees, and my entire family, love you enough for a hundred people. Compared to that, two don't matter at all."

"You sure do have a way with words."

"No, I just have a way with you."

"I'd make gagging sounds," Julie said from behind us, "but not only am I too mature for that ... that was really nice what you said, Dad. I always knew I'm lucky to have extra parents, but now I understand why. Some people don't even have _one_ good one, never mind four."

"If you make me cry, Jules," Steph told her, "I'll never forgive you."

She laughed. "Yeah, you will. You can't help it, I'm irresistible."

"You are," I told her. "And that knowledge has kept me up at night."

"Relax, Dad. I'm not interested in having a boyfriend right now. And if I was, he'd have to measure up to both of my dads, plus every one of my 'uncles', so you don't have to worry either way."

"Nice try," my wife said, "but anyone you like is going to have to pass more security clearances and psychological tests than any other human on the planet. Your dads will always worry ... so will your mom and I. Like I've told my nieces a bunch of times, there's _no one_ out there good enough for you or them, but whoever you guys choose are going to have to attempt to prove that they are."

"You're stealing all my parental moves, Babe."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I'm enjoying it."

"You two are impossible," our daughter told us.

" _Impossible_ not to love," Steph said to her. "We are ... we get it."

That got her an eyeroll while Julie's aunts laughed as they stopped what they were doing to listen to an exchange I'm lucky enough to get to experience almost every day now. My mother arrived with the guest of honor not long after, and Julie ran to the bathroom off the mud room so she could make a second surprise entrance.

" _Happy Father's Day,_ " we all said, as my father was led into the dining room and to the decorations and food that rivaled what was done for our mother. That had him grinning, but he was rendered absolutely speechless when Julie appeared and hugged him.

DAD was spelled out with large silver letter-balloons. And just to annoy me, I'd guess, when our little brother had finally waked over from our parents' place, Celia had him up on a ladder, draping every room downstairs except the bathroom in blue, white, and green, streamers. Plus paper lanterns were strung up inside the house and somehow managed to spill out onto the patio and into the pergola situated near the grilling area.

I had to wrap my arms around Steph and lift her manually off the ladder when I found her trying to help. I appreciate her wanting to celebrate her 'Dad-In-Law', but the fear of her falling, even though she was being watched by all the Manoso kids, I couldn't control the urge to make sure she stays safely on the ground at all times. She understood and apologized for scaring me with a kiss and a ' _I'm okay, but I understand_ ', hug around my midsection.

She didn't move too far from me as the afternoon progressed. Neither did my father it seemed. He couldn't resist the newness of the gas and charcoal grill Steph calls the stainless-steel monster. She claimed if she's going to relax in the backyard all summer, she wanted me to be able to, too. And the grill-gift is her way to help with that, since my mind can focus more on food than work out here.

"That's some grill you've got there," my father commented, not surprisingly wanting in on cooking his favorite things.

His eclectic taste in everything - food especially - meant that the skirt steak, radicchio, chicken sausages, Naan bread, and pineapple, will all get time on the grill even if they don't necessarily go together in anyone's mind except his.

"You like it?" I asked him, when he circled back to me, once again, to see how the 'normal burgers' and his steak are doing.

"What's not to like? You have your choice of gas or charcoal, and you can make sides or sauces to go on top with those two side burners."

"I'm glad you appreciate it," I said, "because one bigger than this one is being dropped off at your house while you're here celebrating in mine."

"If I didn't know you, I'd accuse you of pulling your old man's leg."

"You aren't old, and I told Bobby and Hal that they'd get to taste test your brisket on the 4th if they see to the delivery themselves."

"Are they bringing the beer?" He asked.

I just looked at him.

"I don't have to ask, do I?"

"No. Stephanie has already told them they can each have one for her, since she can't drink any."

"How are you handling a second round of fatherhood?"

"Better than I ever expected."

"Because you're busy making sure Stephanie's okay with it ... and are actually convincing yourself you're ready through her?"

"At first, but I've settled into the fact that we've reached the point in our lives and our relationship where having kids is possible. She and I were both worried about loving something that much. We finally had each other and didn't want to risk tempting fate by wanting more."

"I can't tell you how much your mother and I hurt for you when we realized that you weren't just career-driven, but rather you never felt that you deserved the life you have now. So Rangeman had to be worthy of carrying your legacy because you thought your company was all you'd have. We weren't perfect in how we handled everything over the years. Trying to save you by sending you to Florida was a mistake. We regret making that decision to this day ..."

"It helped me turn my life around, I don't regret that."

"Noble and understanding until the end, aren't you?"

"No. I just call things as I see them."

"Well, allow me to be honest as well. You _do_ deserve Julie and Stephanie, every joy they bring to your life, and to be happy."

"I'm starting to see that."

He gave me a two-slaps-to-the-back hug. "That's the best Father's Day gift you could give me, hearing you say that. It's one thing to give your wife what she wants, it's quite another to realize you want it yourself."

I didn't know how to explain my change in perspective, from thinking I preferred and deserved to be alone, to wanting everything I can get with Stephanie. He sensed that and didn't push it. But he did tell me that the food was just about done and warned me not to overcook the meat. As if I would.

We ate while the food was hot and then he attacked his gifts. Julie tried to keep him in line, but as her grandmother would say to anyone who voiced a similar sentiment out loud, it's a nearly impossible job to control or slow down my father.

"This one's mine, Grandpa," Julie told him. "I hope we'll be using it a lot."

He unwrapped the ceramic platter that had an image of stacked pancakes taking up the center of it with a header of ' _Grandpa and Julie's Pancakes_ ' scrawled across it.

"You make _the best_ chocolate-chocolate chip pancakes and I want to make them with you every morning when I get to visit," my daughter told him.

"Hold on," Steph said. "I've still been ordering ordinary chocolate chip pancakes at restaurants when there's a homemade alternative almost in my own backyard?"

"Yes," I said. "I didn't tell you for both of your sakes."

My father's sweet tooth is legendary. And along with the espresso chocolate chunk ice cream cake with pistachio pound cake making up the layers, which is what Julie helped make this morning, he received a second 'cake' constructed from candy bars. Plus another one made from cans of soda, as well as a faux-cake using stacked Oreo and shortbread cookies and far too much frosting as 'glue'. As my daughter presented her 'cookie craft' to him, she sang a song similar to Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, to have us all laughing as both mine and my father's guts were clenching in pride and love for her.

" _RangeDad, Granddad, let me say, I love you in every way. I love you for all you do, I can't help but love you two. RangeDad, Granddad, there's no way ... for you not to have a Happy Father's Day."_

Steph and my mother were beaming by word two, and they weren't even high on sugar yet.

"When I grow up," Steph told our daughter, "I want to be a you, your grandmother, and Ella, hybrid."

"You're like me _now_ , Steph. You don't have to wait until you're older. You and Grandma are the only ones who get my weird sense of humor."

"I _have_ been called odd _a lot_ , but still ... I'd better get busy taking notes on how to raise someone like you before what's inside of me pops out."

"Gross," Julie said.

"Sorry," she said, tugging on Julie's ponytail before hugging her. "I'm really confused now, do I have a piece of cake, a soda, or a chunk of various candy bars?"

"Whatever your stomach can handle," I told her.

"That's it? No lecturing me on eating cleanly instead of eating crap?" She asked.

"I care more that you're eating something so you gain, not lose anything. We can fine tune your food choices at a later date."

"It has been a bit touch and go with what my stomach wants and doesn't want, hasn't it?"

"More so than I'm comfortable with."

"It's getting better."

"So you keep trying to assure me."

"Hey, Dad?" Julie said to me, "this present's yours."

"You already gave me an earlier visit with you and a new phone to speak to you on, I don't need anything else."

"Don't argue with her, Carlos," my mother chimed in. "I want to see what it is."

"Me, too," Steph added.

"Like you don't _already know_ what's in the box," I told her.

"Of course I don't," she said, trying to sound convincing. "You know how nosy I am, so feel free to hurry up already."

I'm curious myself and I tore through the hot dog-covered paper - that I'd bet Stephanie is behind - and unboxed the gift that my daughter chose on her own for me. It's a leather-tie bracelet that could sit beside my watch and not look out of place with silver beads set in a recognizable pattern.

"It's a message in Morse code," Julie informed me.

"I know."

"So you know what it says, right?" She asked.

"Yes."

I caught her with an arm around her shoulders and hugged her to me, kissing the top of her head.

" _Hello?!_ " Steph said to us. "I must've missed the classes on dot and bead-reading in school, what does it say?"

"It says 'M _y Dad, My Hero_ '," I shared with my family.

She mock-glared at Julie. "Damn it. You _are_ going to make me start crying. Didn't I warn you that I'm hormonal and you should tread carefully when you want to be this sweet?"

I handed her two tissues from the box sitting on a nearby end table. "You're going to need them. We still have our other gift to give."

I saw her mouth the word 'shit', and she crumpled up the tissues in her hand so there will be plenty of corners handy.

"I'm sitting down just in case," my mother told us, doing what she said, but leaning over her husband's arm so she can still see what it is as soon as he does.

It took longer than it should, because Steph wrapped it in paper that was similar to a word search. And she and Julie had spent a solid ten minutes of the morning locating and circling letters with a neon blue Sharpie to form words that they think describe him. ' _Funny_ ', ' _Kind_ ', ' _Wise_ ', ' _Generous_ ', and ' _Loving_ ', were just a few of them.

Before they could spend an hour gushing over that, Julie 'helped' him pull out his gift. Her enthusiasm actually rivaled Stephanie's since we already showed her what's inside. The hardwood picture frame we chose is stained a dark mahogany and above the two slots for pictures are the words _'We love our Grandpa ..._ '. And under the photo of Julie posing beside a purple carry-on suitcase with wheels and a copy of the first sonogram picture we've received so far, continued the warm sentiments towards the man we all love, admire, and try to emulate. The message concluded with ... ' _He's part Parent, part Teacher, part Best Friend ... and is completely loved_ '.

"As you can see from the photo of Julie with her luggage, this originally was going to be our way of telling you that I spoke with Rachel and she had agreed to let Julie visit for an entire week this time," I explained. "I had even worked it out with Tank that I'll be reachable, but we'd be spending that week here so it could be a true family visit, but my wife and daughter turned my surprise _for you_ back _on me_."

"I honestly couldn't see how you'd be able to top a surprise wedding and then a pregnancy announcement, but getting to see Julie and our new grandchild, in a picture at least, is right up there. I can't wait until he or she is big enough to come fishing with you boys, Julie, and I. I can't believe I haven't asked if you like fishing, Stephanie. You know you're always welcome to join us," Papa Manoso offered.

Steph was trying not to let her wince show. "I like _eating_ fish ... well, if it's dipped in batter and fried so I can pretend it's actually _chicken_..."

Her hand went to her mouth and she closed her eyes as she breathed away a brief bought of nausea. She hasn't been sick a lot, but when she is, it's been memorable.

"Scratch that," she told us, "fish and fishing is out for me for a few months. I'll happily sit in a beach chair and watch you guys do and eat it, though."

"Raincheck it is," he said, reaching out to give her arm an affectionate squeeze.

"Let me see that," my mother said, pulling the frame out of his hands.

We knew she would. Steph's hand slid into mine and she turned her head to smile at me.

"I can't believe it!" My mother all but shouted. "You rotten children did it again!"

The tears in her eyes and the blinding smile she gave us softened her words.

" _What?_ " My father asked.

"What did we miss?" Celia and everyone else repeated in some form.

My grandparents were all nodding, grinning, and nudging, each other as the frame was passed around for viewing purposes.

"If you look closely," Steph was saying to my father, once he got his gift back from his own dad, "there are _two_ little blobs on the sonogram. Apparently we've kept the Manoso twin-thing going. I didn't believe it at first, but with three Manoso generations that I know of being sets of twins ... your mom and aunt, you and Alexa, and Ranger's beautiful 'baby' sisters here, I really should've taken that into consideration when I said I might want ' _A Baby_ '. Now we're set to be a family of five next year."

"You're going to need a much bigger dining room table for holidays after they're born. We do stress a standard eight-footer."

"We'll need a bigger everything _now_ , since I feel like I'm the size of a condo already," my wife said.

"You hush, you look stunning," my mother assured her. "You can barely tell that you're expecting aside from having that special pregnancy glow."

"With two of them in there, each egging the other on, it's probably more like a _searchlight_ than a _glow_."

"You're as funny as you are beautiful," my brother said, heaping on the flattery. "Carlos should be happy and damn grateful he saw you first."

"I am," I told/warned him. "One look at Stephanie ... and there was no turning back."

 **A/N: The song Julie sang to her Dad and Grandpa I saw online, but I did change some of the lyrics to fit Ranger and include his dad.**


	6. Chapter 6

**All familiar characters are Janet's. The mistakes are mine alone. I hope it's a happy and safe holiday for everyone who celebrates it.  
**

 **Chapter 6**

 **Ranger's POV**

The Fourth of July is a holiday that inspires mixed emotions in me ... and unfortunately in a lot of my men. Putting our lives on the line by putting our name on a line, first for the government, then again for my company, means we all understand the impulse to celebrate being free, but we always take a more quiet and thoughtful approach to capture the sentiment so we don't endanger anyone. You can be proud and grateful without broadcasting it.

That's usually the goal, but I'm not sure that will be the outcome this year, since Helen couldn't find a reason to turn down this invitation from my parents without being obvious that she's avoiding any interaction between our families. She and Frank, along with Valerie's family, are due to make an appearance in Newark this afternoon. Typical fireworks haven't been used in my family since I returned home from my first deployment, and my mother to this day will enforce Jersey's ban and report anyone she sees with them, but I'm more concerned that we'll have to suffer through fireworks of a more personal nature.

I've already warned Stephanie that if the Plums upset her, there will be severe consequences. They'll be removed by my men if they're lucky ... by me if they aren't.

"Stop frowning," I'm now being ordered by my wife. "I'm fine. Nothing my family says is going to bug me. My mother can even comment on my ever-expanding waistline again, and I'll be okay with it since the belly-bulge is housing our babies."

"If she's smart, she'll stick to small talk about the weather or the food. Your weight, our marriage, my family, and our babies, are _off limits_."

"I know. You already informed me of the 'escorting off the property' plan you have in place ... and I'm not going to tell you to forget about enforcing it. If someone says something about you, our kids, our friends, or my in-laws, I'll be happy to move them along myself. I want our babies to have the best start to their lives, and I'm doing my best to keep myself calm and my temper in check just so they can come out smiling instead of screaming like my mom said I did."

" _You're_ the one who needs defending and protecting, Babe, not me or my men."

"Says you."

I wrapped my arms around her and fit her rounding stomach to my muscled one, which is a hot button issue now. She loves my body as much as she always has, but she has days when she thinks that hers might not be as attractive to me. After witnessing multiple pregnancies with her sister and Mary Lou, and hearing how 'fat' or 'huge' they felt as the months progressed, she decided a preemptive strike would be to be as healthy as she can to keep from going over our doctor's projected weight gain so the post-pregnancy bounce-back will be quicker.

She couldn't be more wrong about me ever thinking of her as unsexy. Just the knowledge that children _with me_ are the only ones she's ever wanted because she loves me - and who we are together - makes my dick as hard as watching her walk towards me naked. It still feels unreal that either scenario is reality after living so long without her.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked.

"After months of 'marital bliss', and months longer of being together, you still have to ask why I'm looking at you with desire?"

"I guess the workouts I'm trying not to skip, and the lower necklines I wear around you, are paying off."

"You don't need to try to tempt me, you do that by being alive. The desire I feel for you is just a hundred times stronger whenever you're in my immediate vicinity."

"You're telling me you don't appreciate my bigger boobs and these getting-toned legs?" She said, turning to the side and extending one of those beautiful limbs out in front of her so I could have a full view of it.

This morning, I'd been up close and personal with the breasts she mentioned and had also kissed my way up both of her legs, while spending considerable time on the sweet spot between them. After her initial hair-pulling orgasm, I finished us both off with something more substantial than my tongue.

Since today is one of the more casual of the holiday gatherings my parents orchestrate, Steph got dressed this morning in a white, thin-strapped, lace-trimmed, draping tank top and short jean shorts that have what she calls the 'belly band'. She's hoping to at least get one more month out of them before the three of them outgrow the denim. In my opinion, her outfit is too distracting to be worn for anyone except me, but she feels good in it and that's all I care about.

"I like the entire package," I told her. "Inside and out."

"Are you talking about my 'inner beauty' or the babies I'm growing inside me?" She asked, coming back to me and sliding her arms around my waist. "There's no wrong answer here, you'll get a kiss either way."

"You can make it _three_ kisses, one from you and one for each of our babies."

"I'm on it," she said against my mouth.

I only got _two_ before my cell buzzed with a text from Tank saying he was heading out.

"Your mom or Tank?" She asked, after I typed a quick response.

"Tank. He's leaving work and is on his way to my parents' house."

"Where _we_ should've been ten minutes ago."

"You keep distracting me, Babe."

"Ummm ... I didn't do anything. You started the mini-makeout session by looking at me like I'm lunch."

"You were my dinner last night, and a pretty delicious breakfast. You looking good enough to eat is causing numerous flashbacks of those 'encounters', so it is technically your fault still."

She kissed my jaw and then pulled away. "It's a good thing we helped out earlier, or we'd be walking-bullseyes for your siblings again. I'm starting to think one - or all of them - time our labor. Hah ... like _you'll_ be doing in a few months."

"They can try to complain about us, but these two," I said, slipping my hand under her tank top to stroke the bare skin of her belly, "have granted us a lot of leeway."

"With your parents ... not so much everyone else, so let's go on over."

I grabbed our contribution to the afternoon's activities in one hand, and opened our front door for my wife with the other. We locked up and then walked the short distance to Patriotism-central.

My mother is an extremely proud Army Mama, and she expresses that in flag-themed food every Memorial Day and Fourth of July. Despite the changes I've made to my diet over the years to limit junk, I still get a personal sugar cookie flag every single Veterans Day, which Tank is still complaining about, since he used to get two from her, mine plus his own, but when I met Steph, the cookie-appreciation automatically went to her.

I honestly believe it wasn't the structure of military life, asthma, and a skull fracture caused by a teenage accident which led to a head-to-car door meeting, that kept my brother - or any of my sisters - from following in my footsteps ... it was our mother. She loves a cause, and 'supporting the troops' is an important and personal one to her. If someone I know or have served with is injured, I don't even have to ask ... she's already on her way to the hospital or to the family's home with a casserole. What I can't do while away, she does without hesitation. If she can help alleviate some of the same pain, stress, and fear, in someone else that she's been forced to endure because of the life I've chosen to live, she'll do it.

After another round of greetings and a warning from me to everyone not to touch what we brought over, Steph and I surveyed the backyard. To amuse the kids, and likely Lester, Glow Sticks were placed inside buckets of ice so there will be eerie lights at random intervals once the sun starts to set. American flags were placed inside mason jars with battery lit candles backing them and they were grouped on every table and porch railing. The normal variety of flags were placed throughout the yard, including the corners of the rabbit hutch, so no one can forget the reason behind the party.

There are far too many red, white, and blue, flag appetizers - as well as entrees - set out on platters even Tank would consider large. One snack was made with strawberries, blueberries, and white chocolate-covered pretzels. Another option used skewers to impale cherries, blueberries, and chunks of banana, to form recognizable 'striped' patterns. One 'flagsterpiece', as my little sister calls them, used angel food cake to make giant trifles with raspberries and blue-tinted whipped cream. Ram, Cal, and Junior, had arrived early to help out and have now staked out the table containing patriotic pizzas with too much cheese, pepperonis, and black olives, to create more flags. And there beside them, bacon cheeseburger meatballs were layered on toothpicks with grape tomatoes, purple cabbage, and white cheddar cheese blocks.

Unfortunately, wanting to spend time with, and keep an eye on, my wife had me helping to prepare most of the food. But I had to draw a line. I only became a legal uncle on New Year's, and I wasn't going to poison my new nieces with the so-called 'firework' popcorn that included Pop Rocks in the ingredient list. My baby sisters stepped in so I wouldn't suffer survivor's guilt if the girls decided to risk eating some even after the bunny bark they had at Easter

I took it as a good sign that Stephanie has already been eyeing a huge platter with an arranged flag shape using pepperonis, two different types of crackers, and small, square slices of white cheese. Its all-vegetable counterpart had steamed cauliflower florets, cherry tomatoes, and blue corn chips, to go with the roasted red pepper hummus, spicy white bean spread, and blackberry salsa, sitting between the trays on one of the tables being shaded by an outdoor canopy. In case that wasn't enough to feed an entire nation with an afternoon to kill, 'guests' could also try out a layered taco salad or the more tame pasta salad using vinaigrette dressing so no one would die going back for seconds. Both salads adhered to the same red, white, and blue, color guidelines. My mother doesn't believe any of this is overkill. She can beat a theme to death and then resurrect it for a round two.

The food didn't end there. There's even a strictly dessert table also in flag colors ... with red, white, and blue, 'fruit'-flavored candy laid out on vanilla sheet cakes to create American flags, plus individual chocolate cakes were baked in ice cream cones with nauseating mounds of white frosting piled high on top and corresponding sprinkles decorating the peaks. Brownies had patriotic-colored M&Ms baked inside, and the round candy was also used to line miniature cakes to form edible daisies on the tops of them. The required fruit salad and yogurt parfaits being kept cold in the fridge, and the homemade all-fruit Popsicles in the freezer, are also all in complementary colors.

There is an entire drink station where the adult beverages were being kept to go along with the 'glowing' buckets that are filled with soda, organic juice boxes, and bottles of water, for the kids and men who choose not to drink the beer that others had brought. Of course beer, wine, sangrias, and margaritas, were given as options, but there is a strict food-to-drink ratio that must be followed, and a designated driver proven to be on standby, for anyone who imbibed or you'd get a ride home from my mother without being asked an opinion on their transportation.

My father's not-so-new anymore grill is getting another workout, and he spent most of his time near it threatening with whatever utensil was in his hand at the time, anyone who tried to help out and flip something. Filling up the grill were corn on their cobs still wrapped in their water-soaked husks, hot dogs, his 'famous' brisket, foil-wrapped potatoes, steak, barbecue chicken, and peaches. If your arteries weren't sufficiently clogging from those choices, a pork butt was also sitting in his smoker. He's in his element as he gave my mother a break from half of the feast-prep, which she thanked us for with a handmade 'Bless You' card we received through the mail two days after Father's Day for giving him such a beneficial 'toy'.

Everyone seemed to appreciate that gift from us, along with being invited to a family 'cook-out' that featured it. A few of my men were unsure of how to act until my mother and Stephanie descended on them and gave them no choice but to grab either a beer or water bottle, a hot dog or hamburger, and had to have a grin or laugh going, before they would be left alone. There's no difference between an employee and a family member. Everyone is here as a welcomed-guest and were treated as such.

"Good thing the guys respect you so much they're a little afraid of you," my wife whispered to me, watching Vince bring out another tray of food behind my mother, while Hal replenished the water bottles that have already been depleted in the almost ninety-degree heat, "or your parents would probably end up with twenty adopted sons along with the two they made."

"They're already considered family, we're not big on labels," I told her.

"I figured that out. And I'm not ashamed to say that I'm grateful for it, although I do love being able to say I'm your wife."

We stayed and talked shop with _my men_ and _Steph's guys_ about the Gardener capture that happened yesterday, which Steph played a huge part in by convincing the aunt to give up the address he was hiding at. They gave her the credit for the apprehension which she tried to pass back onto them for the actual capture, since she took herself out of that part of the job as soon as she decided she wanted a baby. She wasn't going to endanger who turned out to be our twins or stress herself out if something went wrong.

The afternoon was a relaxed one until the Plums arrived. I braced myself for the fallout. The Kloughns were excited to be back, even letting Albert come along this time, but Helen and Frank looked apprehensive. There weren't any hugs or kissed cheeks like my parents assault us with even when they've seen us only an hour before. But as soon as Frank spotted the grill through the glass doors leading to the backyard, and the group of my men beside it speaking to my father, his shoulders became less stiff. He was about to follow Albert and join them rather than have a conversation with his wife and kids, but Steph cleared her throat and stepped completely out from behind me.

I'd answered the door with her so we could break the news privately about our growing family. Steph didn't want to blurt it out at a family gathering in case hers ruined the day for mine. My view of telling them here was a little different. If her parents became upset after they hear about our babies, mine will be right here for her. She'll have immediate support as well as a distraction if one's needed.

Having four sets of backup ... me, my parents, my siblings, and my men, had her pausing and I actually saw the moment her mind changed. Though now I can see it change again when Helen stared directly at the slight stomach her tank top couldn't quite disguise. It was not a _I'm so happy for you and excited to be a grandmother again_ stare.

"So _this_ is why you haven't been visiting. It _wasn't_ doughnuts at all," Mrs. Plum said to her. "You knew you were pregnant last month and didn't tell your father and I?"

She squeezed my hand when she saw me about to say something. "First off," she told her mother, "my not visiting was only _twenty-percent_ baby-related, e _ighty-percent_ was all me. I've been trying to keep myself feeling good and my nerves not shot, and the Burg has the opposite affect on me so I was avoiding it. And for the record, I knew I was pregnant back in _May_ and didn't tell you. _Last month_ I knew that I'm actually carrying _twins_ and didn't tell you."

Her face drained of all color while Valerie's filled with it.

"Oh ... my ... God! _Twins_?!" She asked her sister. " _Really?_ "

"Yep. The Manosos have the market cornered on them. If you pass through the living room, on the console there's a double-frame that has a picture of Julie and the first one of our _dos bebés_."

"Looks like the Spanish lessons are paying off, Babe."

"Yep, your brother and mother are teaching me the important stuff. One covers _swearing,_ and the other all things _caring_."

"Helen?" Frank said to his rigid wife, while I put an arm around my warm and loving one.

"Mom, are you okay?" Valerie asked her. "You're being awfully quiet. You should be happy. Your grandkid total is soon going to top Mrs. Bianchi's. You've said you've wanted to shut her up for years."

Helen ignored Valerie and Frank and focused her eyes on her youngest. I wanted to push Stephanie back behind me where she started this meeting, but she wouldn't budge when I tried. The straightness of her spine and directness of her gaze told me that she's ready for this. She doesn't need to hide anymore, and our babies are too important to her to attempt it just to indulge my protective instincts.

"I'm assuming since you now live next door to them, _Ranger's_ parents were informed right away?" Helen said, causing Frank's forehead to crease at her tone.

She ignored him again.

"It isn't a contest, Mom," Steph told her.

" _Isn't it?_ "

"No."

"Then why did you tell them but not me ... _us_?"

"Because when Ranger and I got engaged here, everyone in _this_ family congratulated us, like Grandma Mazur did when we gave her a copy of our sonogram when we took her out to lunch last week, since she has her senior trip to Atlantic City today. When we got married in this living room, every single one of the Manosos said they were happy that I'm part of their family. When we announced we were moving into the neighborhood, they asked for suggestions for housewarming gifts. When we said we're pregnant, my new family smiled through actual happy tears. When we shared that we're lucky to be getting _two_ babies instead of just the standard _one_ , they celebrated like they'd just won gold medals at the Olympics."

I continued for her so she could focus on the good things in her life rather than list the bad. "You frowned and immediately disappeared into the kitchen when your daughter told you she was engaged to me. Topping that, you all but gave her the silent treatment for a week after you realized she wasn't changing her mind about accepting my proposal, followed by a week of cold-politeness when you heard we were married. And let's not forget that you pouted and complained to Valerie and Edna that you can't believe your own daughter would ' _choose to live in NEWARK of all places_ ', as if _my hometown_ and _my family_ aren't as good or as respectable as yours."

"Both are better," my wife assured me, standing protectively in front of me and purposely drawing both of my arms around her so her hands could rest on my clasped ones on top of our babies. If they were big enough to, I have a feeling they'd be trying to drop kick something in there to show their support for us.

That one gesture of putting herself between me and something she thinks will hurt me, and our joined hands protecting our babies, more than anything demonstrated to me just how strongly she views us as a united front. It really is the two of us facing everything now.

"Why are you mad, Helen?" Mr. Plum asked. "You wanted Stephanie married, and kept telling her she 'isn't getting any younger'. So she got married ... and she even waited to get pregnant so the issue didn't have to be forced ..."

" _Hey!_ " Valerie said.

"Don't listen to them, Val. You eventually married Albert ... that counts," Steph told her. "Not that you couldn't have been happy with him and the girls without a ring."

"It doesn't count with everyone. In case no one else says it ... _Congratulations!_ I am _soooo_ happy for you. _Twins?_ I'm still in shock. You really can stop trying to top me, you know. You're married to a superhero and world-renowned businessman, and not only are you a career woman, you're now helping his empire grow. And you're going to get to add Mommy to your growing list of credentials."

"Again ... it's not a contest."

"I know, but I'm still going to point out that I have more kids than you do even with your two being planted together."

"I've closed the gap a little more with Julie. We'll have three Manoso kids soon."

"And you've called _me_ an _overachiever_ ," Valerie said.

"Yep ... and the perfect daughter, which is still true considering the 'I'm not pleased' faces I'm still inspiring."

"Remember what I said last month, Babe ... about two not mattering when put against many?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"How is everything going in here?" My mother asked, materializing from somewhere behind us with the same excellent timing as her granddaughter has.

"It could be better," Steph answered. "But we're dealing with it. I have everything I need here, so I'm good."

She assessed the situation with one scan of Frank and Helen's uncomfortable faces and went for a proactive guilt attack. This will likely be the last invitation to them she issues.

"Now my dear, Stephanie," she said, tugging my wife out of my arms, "you're having two little angels, how can it possibly be better than that? Isn't that right, Helen? It's alright if I call you _Helen_ , isn't it?"

She wasn't waiting for an answer or permission. She's doing her overprotective Mama-thing and taking Stephanie to safety, which meant out to the backyard where everyone we love is already gathered together ... eating, talking, and having a good time. I nodded to her to indicate we were done here, and waited until my two favorite women cleared the back door so I could have a moment alone with my in-laws.

"Hate me, my background, and the threat I pose to your perfect Burg image," I stated, "but if you say one wrong word to - or about _\- my wife_ or any of our children, I will have us in Newark, if not Miami, full-time. Stephanie is finally happy and I'm not letting anyone ruin that, not even the people who claim to love her."

"We're happy for her and you," Valerie said, trying to smooth all the ruffled feathers. "Aren't we, Mom? Dad?"

"She's old enough to know what she wants. If that's to live in Newark," Frank added, "we don't have a problem with it. Do we, Helen?"

He obviously doesn't know his wife, because you can literally feel how big of a problem she has with me, my background, and my children ... and that's not even counting the _from-birth_ issues she has with Stephanie.

"It doesn't matter what I do or don't think, Frank. There's nothing I can do about it."

I matched her pissed-off stare with a warning one of my own. "No ... _there isn't?_ You'd do well to remember that."

"Let's not mess up another holiday," Valerie said. "I'm going to go find my children and see what that husband of mine has gotten himself into, since he thought hanging around your men is more important than a family discussion. Come on, Mom, Dad ... calm down and just have a good time today. Mrs. Manoso really knows how to throw a party, though I've had to say no to getting chickens and bunnies every week since Easter."

Helen isn't happy, but she tried to hide the fact since she has no alternative. Not only am I in Stephanie's life to stay, I helped create two new ones with her.

I found my wife surrounded by my men. Unfortunately for him, I heard Ram say ... " _If there really are two kids in there, I can't see much evidence of them_. _You look good_."

Steph caught my eye over his shoulder and smiled while Ram tensed. He immediately turned around and clarified.

"I didn't mean anything except to say that she looks beautiful. I mean ..."

"She does," I told him. "And stop now before you talk yourself into a gym ' _meeting_ ' with me in the morning."

"Yes, Sir."

"Don't mind Ranger," Steph told him, "he's feeling a tad protective today."

" _Today?_ " Tank and I both asked her.

"Okay, it's an everyday thing, but a little more so today."

"You can't blame me."

"Nope ... I can't. I can only love you."

"Shit, Steph, I'm trying to get my snack on here ... do you mind?" Lester told her.

"You're such a baby," she replied.

He pointed at her with the cheeseburger he was halfway through demolishing. "Says the _baby_ -maker."

Steph looked at me. "He's not allowed to hold either one when they're born."

" _Oooh_ , that'll hit him where it hurts, Steph," Junior told her.

"It would, but he knows I'm only kidding. I wouldn't keep any of you away from my kids. They'll need all the good role models they can get. And you guys are the best ones out there, since Ranger's already their daddy."

Tank and I shared an amused look. It's not very often that we see every one of the men blush and immediately drop their eyes to the ground. She just embarrassed the hell out of them, but made them feel special as well as good about themselves at the same time. I wouldn't have hired them if they weren't sane, experienced, polite, and willing to sacrifice everything for what they believe in, but it does help for them to hear that they're worth more than their position at our company. They aren't just their experience or what they have experienced.

Steph has a different, yet similar, ruler she measures the people in her life by. How she sees them treat Julie and Ella, how they appear unemotional to the general public but are affectionate and playful once you take the time to really talk to them. And the one I believe hits Steph close to home is what the men get truly angry about. They don't bitch out workers for screwing up their coffee order, or threaten or insult someone who calls during a game they were looking forward to watching. The stupid crap in life they're able to brush off.

But they become livid when they respond to calls like the one two weeks ago where a woman had been beaten by an ex-boyfriend who broke another restraining order by breaking in. They get physically ill and emotionally harmed whenever they hear that a child has been involved in an accident and was one of the victims hurt. And every single one of 'Steph's Guys' swear profusely and swear retribution, as well as swift relocation, for any animal they hear or find that has been abused.

In what they revile and are disgusted by, shows just what caring and sensitive human beings these so-called 'robots' are. And in getting to know them instead of judging them, Stephanie has treated them as the great people and honorable men they all are, on top of always being impressed at how well they do their jobs everyday.

She would - and will - encourage all interactions between them and our children, not limit any of it. And they love her even more for knowing that. Our babies will have as many Uncles as Julie has had. To prove that to them, she wanted them to be the ones to make our announcement for us. Steph actively involving them in our life and family this way will no doubt cement their loyalty to her. They respect me, but they genuinely love her. Combine that respect and love, plus the right amount of fear of pissing me off in any fashion, and our children can't be in better hands.

"What's with the pinatas?" Bobby asked us, after I hung both on branches of two different trees in the backyard ... an old Oak and the Maple tree Julie wants a picture of every Fall. "I didn't think of the Fourth of July as being the kind of holiday that uses them."

"My Mom and Dad-in law were nice enough to say it was okay to add our own touches to the decorations. We aren't doing the typical fireworks," Steph explained, "which I'm fully behind since I realized a while back that I prefer watching fireflies over watching fireworks, but I thought we still needed something sparkly to celebrate with. So both pinatas are filled with either pink or blue confetti to let you all know exactly who'll be coming in a few months. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I know we'll be sweeping confetti up long after the babies are born. Anyway, we know how much you guys like hitting things, so I thought this would be a way for you all to entertain yourselves plus find out who you're going to be Uncles to ... if we're going to be welcoming one of each, two girls, or two boys."

"Honestly, Stephanie, can't just tell us what you're having?" Helen asked.

Her choice of words ... ' _what_ we're having' was meant to provoke, but Stephanie didn't bite, not wanting to cause a scene. Her parents' comments and opinions have ceased to matter to her, given she has much kinder, more accurate ones now, but I'll make sure there's a private discussion later on what I meant by right and wrong things to say. I can tell from the eye twitch my wife is trying to casually rub away, it could be a final conversation between our family and hers unless something changes.

"Nope," she said, answering her mother. "This is _way_ more fun. There are some lawn chairs set out in the corner over there if you don't want to be part of this." She dismissed her and faced my men. "Batter up, Guys."

The men certainly thought this was an enjoyable activity. It became a mission worth formulating a plan of attack for before they struck anything. They divided themselves into two teams and threatened the life of anyone that opened either pinata on the first strike. Every one of them wanted to be in on this, and they ordered each other to pull their punches so they could draw out the suspense. Woody even held Lisa up so she could take a swing herself after Mary Alice and Angie split up. Each niece was representing a team, and both took their own turns to see who their cousins will be.

Tank is essentially the boss of everyone here except Stephanie and I, and he's also been a close family friend from the time we were kids. He didn't care about the 'rules' ... or maybe he just figured they didn't apply to _him_. He really wanted to know, so when he was up ... he cracked the bright yellow, paper mache sun, in two and showered that little section of the backyard in metallic _blue_ star-shaped confetti.

" _Holy shit!_ " Cal said. "Excuse the language, but we're having _a boy!_ "

"Yep," Steph said to him, her hand absently rubbing where he might be currently resting in her stomach, as if she was actually touching him.

She couldn't, and didn't seem to want to, escape my parents' hug or Bobby's all-encompassing one, which morphed into an off-her-feet circular spin.

"Be careful with _her_ and _them_ ," I told him.

"I'm okay, just a little dizzy now ... and high on happy vibes," my wife told me, once she was placed gently back on her feet, with Bobby and Cal each reaching out to steady her before I could move in case she wasn't joking about feeling off balance.

She came over to me and leaned against my body, fitting her back to my front, repeating our clasped-hands stance from earlier, as hits to pinata number two - a red, white, blue, and yellow-sectioned beach ball this time - resumed after a number of hugs, arm pats, and back-slapped congratulations, to us both.

Hal was the one who freed the second round of confetti ... this one _also_ blue.

"Oh Lord, _two_ Manoso _boys_ at the same time?" Celia asked, watching the last of the shiny stars fall to the ground. "I had enough trouble with my little brothers being years apart."

"Start praying for us," I advised after kissing Stephanie.

She had tipped her head to the side to smile up at me for my comment, but she appeared more proud than scared now.

"More like start _celebrating_ ," my mother said. "I honestly can't wait to meet and hold them. To think ... there will eventually be two more men like my boys out there in the world."

"Amen," my wife stated, raising and tapping her glass of ice-cold mineral water up against my mother's sangria, both drinks supplied by Woody.

Not only are Stephanie and I in this together, we clearly have our village behind us ready to help the two of us raise our boys to be as impressive as they all are.


	7. Chapter 7

**Everybody and everything familiar belongs to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone.**

 **Chapter 7**

 **Ranger's POV**

It's been years since I've had to mow the lawn. It was a chore that was required of all Manoso children as soon as we were old enough for our father to trust us with his mower. After I enlisted, I didn't really have a 'home' to worry about. When I did mostly settle in Trenton and start Rangeman, I hired Ella and Louis immediately after the building was ready, and once again property maintenance wasn't something I had to concern myself with.

I could hire someone to take care of the grounds here in Newark, but one comment from Stephanie about how she was already picturing me cutting the grass sans a shirt, had me seeing a different side of lawn care. Her exaggerated face-fanning amused me enough to bring her fantasy to life. In appreciation for all my hard work, while I was making precise lines back and forth across our backyard, she decided to get some fresh 'cut grass air' at the same time. She had changed into a swimsuit, intending to sit in one of the two padded chaise lounges that I'd set up on the patio under an umbrella so she and Julie could enjoy the outdoors while limiting the risk of a burn or heat stroke.

Steph had shown me the red bikini she'd found while shopping with Valerie, Mary Lou, and two out of four of my sisters. The top to it is strapless and there's a sexy side-tie on the skimpy bottoms that make them adjustable so she'd remain comfortable wearing them as her stomach and our babies grow.

"If I'm going to have something bigger than a doughnut belly for months to come," she'd told me at the time, "I'm going to embrace it rather than hide it."

I had, and still, agree with that sentiment. I want her to see herself as beautiful ... not only when she's pregnant, but every moment afterwards. I do believe her self-confidence is improving, but I could see a flash of doubt cross her face as she stepped out of our back door this morning. The fence around the yard offers plenty of privacy so it's only she and I looking at her, and her being apprehensive about her appearance around either of us doesn't sit well with me. As she continued on towards the outdoor furniture, I shut the mower off in the middle of a row and walked over to her. Once she was seated, I leaned over her and first kissed her mouth, then her belly right above her navel.

"It's nice of you three to join me," I told her.

"It's not going to be warm like this much longer so I wanted to get some use out of this thing," she said, pulling on the top a little, though unfortunately it hadn't slipped down at all.

"I'm glad you made that decision. Now I have something to look at besides the ground."

"It still fits ..."

"A little _too_ well," I told her, causing her face to become pink with no help from the sun.

"It won't take me long to change for the store whenever you're ready. I can do that while you shower if you work up a sweat. You know, I was mostly kidding. You don't need to do the yard work yourself just to make me happy."

"Everyone warned you that I will do _anything_ to make - and keep - you happy. I'll need a cold shower whether I'm sweaty or not if you keep eyeballing me like you're doing."

"And I'll have to join you for it if you keep mentally removing my bikini. Our babies aren't the best chaperones, are they? They're here, but we're still getting into trouble."

"I can't help it. You look good enough to eat."

She laughed and completely stretched out so her breasts and rounding stomach were more prominently displayed. "Thank you. I feel better now. I talk big ... when really I'm just feeling big."

"You're sexy as hell, Steph, and just as beautiful ... you're not 'big'. If you feel that way again, just remember you have _two_ boys in there who are likely going to be powerhouses like their Daddy and Uncles, so they will require more room than just a standard baby."

She playfully swatted my leg. "I really am okay. You can finish up."

"You have water?"

She held up two bottles that are sweating in the unseasonably warm September air. "Yep. I'm relaxed, happy, and will stay totally hydrated."

I kissed her again and completed my mission. I did take a quick shower before Steph decided she wanted to kiss all the sweat of my chest. It was a time-issue or I would've happily let her. We had to get the ingredients for the recipe she decided to make for the 'Labor Day Cook-off' my parents are hosting this year. The elder Manosos never pass up a chance to overfeed their offspring, so Labor Day is as celebrated as every other holiday. Now with being pregnant, my wife is even more under Ella's spell, and Steph wanted to enter the 'competition' rather than just eat the results of it, so I offered to take her to get her supplies because the store she was going to is too close to her old life for my liking.

I was right to be concerned since she and I only made it through the dairy aisle before we ran into a Burg rodent. I'm betting even Rex could take him, but I don't like Steph having contact with vermin of any kind.

"Business must be slow if the Mighty Manoso is protecting Shop 'n Bag shoppers these days," Morelli said, not bothering to hide his smirk.

"I'm only interested in protecting _one_ shopper from _anything_ unpleasant."

"Funny meeting you here," Steph said to him. "As far as I know, you _never_ go grocery shopping. Your mom or Grandma from Hell almost always took care of that for you. You just pick up whatever snack you're craving at a convenience store and get the heck out. Let me guess, you or my mother have the store manager on your payroll and told them to call you if I - or we - show up."

"I had to see for myself," Morelli said, staring at my wife's midsection in a way that had my hand curling into a fist and drawing back.

"Well, now anyone can see. I have Ranger _número uno_ with me, and little Rangers _2_ and _3_ taking up residence," she told him, both of her hands going to her stomach.

I've noticed that she does that seemingly without thought whenever she's upset or really happy. It's as if she's trying to calm them down, too, or she wants to make sure they're included in whatever has her feeling good.

"You said you never wanted kids," he continued.

"Turns out I did ... once I was with the person I wanted to make some with."

I kissed her curls for the compliment and hid my smile in them.

"And boy did I pick the right guy," she continued so innocently, it'd be hard for anyone else to tell if she's purposely needling him or just making conversation. "I was going nuts trying to decide what maternity clothes to buy that will fit me the longest, but then I realized I'd only have to worry about jeans - unless ' _someone's_ ' taking me somewhere fancy again - if I just head to Ranger's side of the closet. His muscles are so big, his t-shirts and sweatshirts cover all three of us."

Getting to see the expression on his face when he heard that, was almost worth him interrupting our day. Not only does he hate Stephanie being married to me, and now pregnant with my children, he completely despises hearing how happy she is about it.

"You're welcome to _anything_ of mine anytime ... skivvies, civies, or whatever either are covering. You look far better in my clothes than I do," I told her, pulling her to the side of my body not holding the shopping basket.

"I'd argue that one. Watching you work out in anything you throw on, could've gotten me pregnant all on its own. Gym-time almost ties this morning's shirtless-mower."

I would've laughed at his face when she said that, but she's honestly complimenting me and I wouldn't ruin the moment by making her think I found her feelings regarding me amusing.

"That wouldn't have been as much fun," I said, for her ears only.

She shivered as she remembered what an 'eventful' night Easter's turned out to be. If she wanted to become pregnant, I wasn't giving up until the job was done. I was rewarded in multiple ways for my diligence.

"You're fucking with me here, aren't you?" Morelli asked. "There's no way you're like this all the time. You're intentionally trying to piss me off."

"Nothing _we_ do, Joe, is about _you_. But Tank would definitely disagree with you," she told him. "He rolls his eyes more than I do whenever Ranger and I are working together."

"You're not doing apprehensions ..."

"Don't make me hit you, Morelli," she threatened. "Our jobs are our concern, not any of yours. If my parents don't get a say in what I do, you sure as hell don't. Despite what you believe, I'm not stupid. I would _never_ endanger my babies."

"I didn't mean ... "

"Yes, you did," I interrupted. "And if you do it again, I guarantee that you won't live to regret it."

"I know you're a Neanderthal so you won't get this, but women can still use their brains and their bodies while they're pregnant ... and likely get everything done better than most. And we can go to work everyday, which is what I'm doing for my family. I'm not willing to let myself get shot at, but I can do a million other things for my husband's empire while I'm forming our little boys."

"We're done here," I said to her. "Let's get the rest of your stuff. Ella's likely waiting not-so-patiently. She told Louis that she misses you keeping her company on weekends."

"Okay, I need the pasta and some croissants and I'll be set to make the winning dish."

" _You're_ cooking?" Morelli asked.

"Uh-huh ... with Ella providing backup. If I want Manoso bragging rights, I have to put in the work."

"I don't believe this shit."

"You don't have to," I told him. "What we do in our lives has no bearing on yours."

"I'm not the same woman you or my mother knew, Joe. I'm Stephanie Manoso, mom-to-be of two little boys, Rangeman employee, and taker of _no_ crap. You can stop looking confused or surprised. I've grown up and into the person I wanted to be ... and this woman wants to win this contest while impressing the heck out of my mom-in-law."

"That's my Babe," I said, kissing her temple. "Go for the jugular in every fight."

"Someone taught me that you should never give up when you want something bad enough."

"I'm outta here," Morelli stated.

"Not nice seeing ya," I replied, already steering my wife towards an aisle further away from him.

She doesn't need this ... and neither do my boys.

We got double the amount of everything and headed to the Rangeman building. Steph and Ella are teaming up in an effort to out-cook a seasoned professional ... my mother, with Tank, Woody, and Bones, serving as 'impartial' judges. They'll eat anything, but they're the most vocal about what they didn't like about it.

Monday afternoon, I acted as her sous-chef in our Newark kitchen as Steph methodically went through the steps Ella showed her, only aiming one or two questions my way about what to do. Our home smelled like the place a healthy diet goes to die soon after. When the 'food' was in the oven, she changed into a multicolored, sleeveless, shift dress that had her not looking pregnant at all unless she turned sideways. After she and I spoke to Julie for a few minutes, who would soon be on her way to her maternal grandparents' house for a little spoiling too, I picked up the still-hot casserole dish and Steph and I headed a few doors down to my parents' place.

As soon as we walked in, I knew they were up to something. I didn't find out exactly what until our hands were emptied and we were escorted through the house to the decorated backyard.

" _What ...?_ " Steph said, glancing around the yard and then back to my family, who were all wearing shit-eating grins.

"Happy _'Labor_ ' Day, our dear Stephanie," my mother said. "What better day for a double-boy baby shower than _this one_ honoring hard work? There really is no harder job than raising children to be independent, compassionate, responsible, people, but no labor is more rewarding."

"You two keep trying to surprise us," my father added, "we believed it was our turn."

"We threw you off with the cook-off, didn't we?" Mama Manoso asked, looking very pleased with herself.

"Yeah, you definitely did," Steph answered. "As much as I love that you did this for us, I was planning my victory speech and ready to claim whatever prize you were offering."

"What'd you make?" Aunt Tatty asked her.

It's hard to imagine, but she's even more interested in _unique_ food combos than Stephanie is.

"I found a recipe for macaroni and cheese bread pudding," my wife answered. "I figured there is no _not_ winning with a recipe full of buttery carbs and extra cheese."

Tatiana looked back towards the house, since our hands are obviously empty. "It's in the kitchen?"

"Yes," I said. "Steph and Bones decided it tastes the best hot or at room temperature, so it's in the oven that's been switched off."

"Be right back," Tatty said, leaving Steph smiling, and I'd guess ... feeling pretty good about her choice.

"Can Aunt Tatty adopt me?" She asked me.

"She already has, just like the rest of us did the first time we met you," my mother assured her. "Just wait until you see what she's painting for my two grandsons. I'm tearing up just thinking about what she's done so far."

"Our babies aren't even here yet and they have their own Manoso eggs for the tree?" Steph asked.

"Of course. Tatiana immediately started mentally planning them when I first told her that I'm going to be a grandmother again. I've never seen her so focused as when she was painting her egg for my Julie, but she's now going into full-blown artist-mode. You did after all hit her with _two_ babies at once."

"I still can't believe everyone has gone through all this trouble for us."

"What you have done for Carlos can never be repaid, but this has nothing to do with that. We love _you_ , Stephanie. And we consider you one of ours to love and spoil however we see fit. And those babies inside you have the same thing coming."

"I warn both her, and them, nightly," I added, before Steph started outright crying instead of just the rapid blinking and subtle sniffling she's doing now.

She can confront a killer with bravado and mostly steady nerves, but acts of kindness with her name on them turn her into an emotional wreck. I can face a twenty-man-on-one fight and come out the victor, but I still feel fucking helpless whenever I see her crying, whether they're happy tears or 'I'm upset' ones. She managed to get them under control by the time Grandma Rosa produced a crown stating ... "Mother To Be" that was covered with rhinestones and far too many fake gems, which she pinned in place on top of Steph's curls.

" _Para que nuestra propia madre sea,_ " she told my wife, punctuating her words with a kiss to each of Steph's cheeks.

She looked to me for a translation. "I recognize mother, but that's it."

"She said something to the effect of ... _'for our own mother to be_ '."

She held onto Rosa's hands for a moment that needed no words or translations.

"Hey, Big Bro," my little sister said, "you aren't getting out of this unscathed. These are _your_ babies, too."

And she attached a black shield-shaped badge to my shirt that simply stated "Super Dad" in blue writing that resembled a superhero emblem.

"I'd say there's a new sheriff in town," Steph whispered to me, "but it's the same hardass we all know and love."

"I _have_ been tempted to lock you up a few times."

She smiled at the memories of how many time I've threatened to do exactly that so I'd be sure she remained unharmed.

"You _still_ mention wanting to put me in a safe house," she replied. "Though _now_ you at least say you'd be staying with me in it."

"It wouldn't be good to make any jokes about that, Steph," my brother added. "When it gets close to your due date, Carlos is likely going to kidnap you and bring you to a safe house that has a small-scale hospital attached to it."

" _Crap!_ I have our hospital bags already packed even though we won't need them for awhile. I just made that option _too_ easy for him, didn't I?"

"You did ... and _he_ thanks you for it," I told her, kissing her briefly before we were 'encouraged' to appreciate the backyard, which today doubled as Baby Central.

There were balloon 'statues' made into the shape of baby bottles and pacifiers, and stacked-balloon baby boys were standing guard over the food tables. My family even went so far as having two balloon boys sitting in actual baby swings hanging from a lodge-themed swing set that had been assembled overnight which I have a feeling will be in our own backyard by tomorrow morning. Set on each table of either food or gifts were cradles, a motorcycle, jeep, and even two teddy bears, created out of diapers and at times baby clothes to make them appear more realistic.

Celia also reverted back to her floral ways by creating a bouquet of 'roses' out of rolled baby socks, and another 'flower' centerpiece was constructed from diapers. Not one to be outdone, my mother made an edible train out of halved bell peppers with sliced-cucumber wheels. Each of its 'cars' had been filled with crudite and multiple dips for it. Utensils were wrapped in blue napkins and secured with rattle-printed tape to resemble bow ties, and one section of table had two real Tonka trucks placed so they'd be dumping tortilla chips onto platters in front of them in-between baby bowls filled with hummus, salsa, and some unidentifiable cheese dip. Homemade glazed and blue-frosted doughnuts were fitted with pacifiers, and there ended up being _two_ pigs in every bread blanket.

Beverages weren't even safe from decorations or the theme. Two large glass containers were ready to dispense baby blue punch to guests who wouldn't be put off by the rubber ducks floating in them. With all of that, what made Steph actually laugh out loud were the snack bags full of popcorn tied with labels that exclaimed "Ready To Pop!"

"I can't 'pop' for a few more months," my wife told our family, "but they have been popping out more and more everyday via my stomach."

"Like I told you yesterday, Babe, they need plenty of room to reach Rangeman-size."

"They'd better not pick Tank to emulate or I'm begging for a C-section delivery at my next doctor's appointment."

The family laughed. They've all noticed, and have commented on, that there's close to seven-feet of Tank to love.

"How are we supposed to eat food that looks this cute?" My wife asked, staring at the carved baby carriage-watermelon filled with fruit salad, and the acre of child-sized sandwiches either held together with various baby-themed toothpicks or had bread cut into shapes like teddy bears, rocking horses, or baby feet. "No matter how good it tastes, I know I won't be able to drag a cracker or cookie through a cheese or cheesecake ball that looks like a hedgehog and an owl."

"Just wait until after Aunty Tatty has some, Babe. I promise it won't resemble anything 'cute' after she's done with it."

I'd heard Tatiana come back outside, so I said that mainly for her.

"Watch yourself, Carlos. I may be a little on the small size, but I can kick your ass if I put my mind to it."

"Only because you know I would never fight back."

"Love you, too, RangerMan," Tatty said, stretching up to kiss my cheek. "I know the cook-off was just a sham so we could surprise the baby-makers, but I'm casting my vote anyway ... and Stephanie wins. That Mac & Cheese concoction is killer."

"With the amount of cream and cheese in it," I informed her, "it literally _is_ a killer. You may want to think about doubling up on your cholesterol medicine."

Each side of my rib cage got elbow jabs. My right side from my wife and the left from my honorary Aunt.

I kept one woman tucked under my shoulder and steered her away from the other one. These two together could be even more dangerous than my four sisters being under the same roof for longer than five minutes.

"You guys really are incredible," Steph was saying, as she took in every detail of the 'decorations'.

They didn't stop at just covering almost every available space with something balloon or food-related. The clotheslines that are used almost daily in the summer, are now being weighed down with an entire closet full of baby clothes ... from onesies, different-colored baby socks and sneaker booties, bibs, and more than a few outfits that were only separated for hanging purposes.

Steph had gravitated to them, likely because seeing them blowing in the breeze only feet from her, brought home the fact that we _will_ be having two little boys with us soon. She unclipped two t-shirts ... a white one that said " _There's A New Bat In Town_ " with a Batman mask in the corner of it, and a black shirt stating ... " _Baby By Day, Hero By Night_ " with the Bat symbol in the center of it between the words.

"Oh God, these are so friggin' adorable ... and so little. I'm getting nervous about taking care of somebody this tiny, never mind two of them."

"You and the boys will fine, Steph," I assured her. "I've got your back, your front, and anything else you need."

"We know you call our brother 'Batman'," Celia explained, "so of course we had to get our nephews something with Batman on it."

"They're perfect."

"We didn't know if you're going to dress them alike, or if you'll want to be able to tell them apart if they're identical. With these two," she continued, using two thumbs to point to our own twin sisters, "they made it almost impossible to tell who was who, so we stuck to clothes that are similar, yet slightly different, except for the onesies that both say ' _Womb Mates_ '. I couldn't resist those. Or the shirts with opposite pointing arrows saying ' _He Did It_ '. They should learn how to get out of trouble early on."

"She also bought herself that shirt," Twinny 1, our old nickname for the older of our twins, pointed out, "even though two of us were with her at the time."

"Steph may be Carlos' ' _Babe_ '," Celia explained, "but I'm their children's _B.A.E._... _Best. Aunt. Ever!_ "

"Are not," every Manoso women protested.

"If you don't believe me, just ask Julie."

"Julie loves all of you," Steph said, trying to stop a _are so_ / _are not_ argument, "just like our boys will."

"Come on children, play nice and behave," my mother ordered. "This is Stephanie and Carlos' day. We'll celebrate National Aunt and Uncle Day next year with Julie and your new nephews so we can cover every one of you."

"I checked, it's July twenty-sixth," Celia offered 'helpfully'.

Our mother nudged her, and with a smile she turned back to Stephanie. "Your seat await."

"No freakin' way ... you can make an actual piece of furniture using boxes of diapers?" My wife asked. "It's safe to sit in/on it?"

"Of course," my father answered. "It was tested and approved by at least seven Manosos."

"We're going to need a much bigger nursery," I said, "and likely an addition put on the house by the time they're walking."

"You can store whatever you don't have room for here if you run out of space. Now, Stephanie, you just sit down and enjoy yourself. We'll bring the gifts, food, and friends, to you."

"We wanted this to stay a surprise," my father added, "so we asked your guests to arrive only after you did. Edna, Valerie, Mary Lou, and their families, along with your entire 'security team' should start coming through the door any minute. We can try out some games, or toss around a few baby names, until everyone gets here. Or if you'd like, we can get you something to eat now and you both can start on the Manoso portion of gifts."

She didn't hesitate. "We'll wait for them. I don't want to go through any stage or phase of this without everyone being around to enjoy it, too."

Our friends and family proceeded to show us exactly why they are part of our lives. In under two hours, the food was too-quickly demolished, the rubber ducks lost three-quarters of their blue habitat, and the contents of two entire baby stores - since we need double everything - were unwrapped. That turned into a game in itself between my men, who crumpled up every scrap of wrapping paper, and challenged each other to see who could shoot better 'baskets' into the carefully-concealed barrels bought to contain the destruction.

Tank was the chosen one to _present us_ with the _present_ for our nursery everyone here had a hand in. It was a large 11x14 framed copy of our latest sonogram picture. The image of our babies totals only 4x6 inches, but what filled in the remaining space around it were handwritten, unapologetically-sincere messages from everyone in attendance today to our boys for when they arrive.

 **A/N: I had to rely on what a few translation sites gave me to capture Grandma Rosa's sentiments. And almost all the decorations and gifts for the baby shower, I saw online.  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**All familiar characters belong to Janet. The food and decorations are a 90/10 split between things I've seen and my own creepy mind. The mistakes are mine alone.**

 **Chapter 8**

 **Ranger's POV**

"Hah," Steph said, the joking glint in her eyes making the sun seem dim in comparison, "now you look just like me."

Only Stephanie and Julie could get me to an actual pumpkin farm. Both asking me, with blue and brown eyes looking hopeful and pleading, meant all I said was "Where?" and "What time?" Which led to me holding a substantial pumpkin Julie already decided she wants to turn into a cemetery scene. Since Halloween this year falls on a weekday, and Steph managed to convince Rachel that Julie is essential for 'pumpkin gut removal', we are lucky enough to have her for the Friday to Sunday before the holiday.

And that had me currently carrying the autumn bounty since I wouldn't allow Stephanie to. Apparently my holding Julie's pumpkin against me, reminded Steph of the pumpkin-like bump that is the only way for our babies to present themselves to the world right now.

Mine will result in a creative craft courtesy of Julie. Steph's bump will produce two people I hope will grow up to have all the traits she has that I love. The weather remained consistently warm, making this an ideal Fall day in Steph's mind. Also in our daughter's mind, judging from the smile that has rarely left her face. The sky over us is a determined blue, and the leaves are staying suspended in their peak orange, red, and yellow, colors before they begin falling. Just being a few hours into it, I can tell it's a day that I will always remember, and one that I will be able to share with my boys since they are included in it.

"Dad looks like a dad holding our pumpkins so we don't have to lug them around," Julie told her. "Don't tease him or we'll end up having to carry them ourselves."

"You won't," I assured her.

"Yeah, Jules, your dad likes showing off just how strong he is. You could point to the biggest pumpkin here, and he'd carry it just to prove that he can."

My wife leaning over to kiss me let me know she's kidding as well as completely serious.

"Just pick what you like, and I'll take care of it," I told them both.

They exchanged a look. "He's being too agreeable," Steph said to Julie. "Is it time with his daughter that has him in such a good mood? The fresh air? Weekend break from work ...?"

My lungs stopped pumping oxygen as Julie stared directly at my face, her eyes glued to mine. "I think he's just happy," she said, after a few beats of silent scrutiny.

I expected them both to start smiling or playfully nudging each other, but Julie was completely serious and Steph agreed with her. I _am_ happy now and it looks like everyone can see and feel that. When she isn't even trying, Stephanie continues to expose another layer of the man I used to be, am now, or still hope to be.

Even at a farm outside of Trenton, I can still identify and keep an eye on twenty separate locations a sniper could be hiding, and purposely keep my body between those positions and my family, but I can also smile at a two-year-old little blonde boy in the row over from ours, adamantly choosing a small blue/gray Choga pumpkin over the typical large and smooth orange ones that Julie has been systematically going over with an artist's eye similar to Aunt Tatty's.

Steph chose her own pumpkin after an extra ten minute search. Julie already promised to help her with carving it. My daughter is always ready to learn something new, and she wants to test out a way to cut down on gutting the pumpkins, which will include a cordless drill and a beater from a handheld mixer. I paid for the doomed vegetables before taking them out to the Cayenne while Steph and Julie visited the small farm animal petting zoo where I'd still be able to see them both from the parking area.

When I got back, Steph was feeding a sheep she was calling Ram. "Wash your hands well when you're done," I ordered.

"You're talking to _me_ , not _Julie_ , right?"

"Right. But hers get washed, too, if that goat licks them."

"I'm naming that guy Woody."

"Steph, Woody doesn't have a beard, and his hair isn't white _or_ gray," our daughter pointed out, in either Woody's or the goat's defense.

My wife left 'Ram' alone and exposed herself to more germs when she gave the goat some food from the palm of her hand.

"Maybe he doesn't _look_ like _our_ Woody, but he's just as polite, and appreciates food as much, as our Rangeguy."

She _is_ going to get a detectable eye roll from me one of these days. When the animal feed was dispersed among the animals vying for it, they went to the portable sinks and scrubbed off the slobber.

"Can we get something to eat while we're here?" Julie asked us. "They have homemade pumpkin bread and apple crisp. Apple cider if you're not hungry. We really should support our farmers you know."

"She's got a point. Like with Ella, it'd be rude not to test out their food," Steph added. "They do use what they grow. That should be rewarded."

"Are you hungry?" I asked her.

One day last week, she had wanted to finish what she was working on before stopping to have lunch and she'd become a little light-headed when she stood up from her desk. I'm making sure that doesn't happen again. Junior still hasn't recovered from seeing her face go bloodless in front of him.

" _Hungry?_ " My wife said. "No. _Snackey?_ Yes."

"There's a table that just opened up," I said, pointing to a picnic table close to where you can place an outside order. "You can tell me what you want and go sit down before someone else gets it."

"I want apple crisp with ice cream on it," Julie told me.

Steph was slower with her answer. "Do you think they'd put a scoop of pumpkin cheesecake ice cream, and one of chocolate with peanut butter cups in it, in a small cup?"

"For you they will."

She kissed me and then put her hands on Julie's shoulders and steered her towards the table. "Don't shoot anyone to get it. I'll be fine with plain vanilla," she told me over her shoulder.

I made no promises. If it gets even busier and someone shoves one of my girls, they'll be eating a bullet instead of a cider doughnut. I got them the food they requested, and the five of us hung around for a few minutes after it was all consumed as they formulated a plan on how to get my mother to let them do some of the decorating. Our babies have no choice whether they stay or go somewhere, but their Mama and sister weren't in any hurry to leave, so neither was I.

When we reached Newark from there, we stopped at our house only long enough for Steph and Julie to change. Julie went simple in terms of a costume choice and used a pair of her black cargo pants and boots, and then raided mine and Steph's closet to create an _easy to move around in_ SWAT member costume. We'll all be helping to set up before the pre-Halloween party my parents are throwing tonight, and she didn't want to have to take time away from everyone to change because we'll be remaining there until the party is over and cleaned up after. Whenever my mother can have all of her grandchildren in her vicinity - the one who was able to come for the weekend, and the two who won't be arriving until the new year - she'll find a way to prolong her time with them, like throwing a party before the actual holiday.

Since Julie is visiting, and Steph's nieces will be guests for this get-together, my parents decided not to traumatize anyone this year and stuck to child-friendly decorations. Stephanie thought I'd been kidding when I told her how one year the neighbors had called the police to report suspicious activity and a possible murder when the Manoso parents had chosen to do a crime scene theme party on a year Julie wasn't able to make it to Jersey. The couple that had phoned in the tip moved shortly after, likely worried that they had caught a glimpse of their own future for calling the cops. My parents weren't angry. Far from it. It's a story they tell and continue to laugh about every year. They being who they are, actually took it as a huge compliment that their decorations were so realistic, and their theme so believable, that the neighborhood was concerned.

This Halloween, though, the backyard was filled with chicken wire that was molded into 'ghostly' shapes by my father and then spray painted with glow in the dark paint so they'd stay lit all night with no help or electricity. With those, along with balloon ghosts hanging from tree branches, and what the pumpkin carving seminar that took place this morning produced, the backyard was transformed into an Elder-Manoso take on a haunted pumpkin patch.

The inside had been tackled right after. Julie was in full-on holiday mode and wanted to do more than just carve pumpkins and hang pre-made decorations. She wanted to use multicolored plastic jack-o'-lanterns to form archways for the rooms downstairs. Celia volunteered to be her co-creator. The cardboard bats hanging from the ceilings, unnaturally large plastic bugs 'running' across walls and doors, and battery-operated gargoyles, witches, and ghosts, that were set to move, moan, or offer candy, whenever someone walked by them, wasn't enough for my family. If there is a clear spot, or empty corner, anywhere it means someone hadn't done their job and was slacking off.

"Our girl's got a drill, look out world," Steph joked, checking out Julie's progress as one arch was completed.

Julie held the drill up and pulled the trigger as she smiled. "The world had _better_ watch out for me."

"It will or I'll end it," I promised her.

She pointed the drill safely towards the ground and gave me a squeeze around the waist with her free arm. "I know you would. And thank you for always threatening whoever or whatever threatens me."

"It's my pleasure," I said, dropping a kiss in her hair.

"Look," she said, "if Steph stands sideways, she almost fills the archway."

"Very funny," my wife replied, knowing Julie was only kidding to lessen the emotion filling the room ... just like she does. "It's your baby brothers who are taking up the entire pumpkin patch"

Steph didn't go for an actual costume this year, but along with a pair of black leather pants with a maternity band, she found a black t-shirt that had a flesh-toned insert across her stomach made to appear like two baby boys were looking out from inside her while saying " _Peek A Boo, We See You!"_ to everyone.

"Can you do me a favor?" I asked Julie.

"Yup. Anything."

"Would you go stand with Stephanie under your arch?"

"Sure," she said, putting down her power tool and slipping one arm around her stepmother while placing a hand where her brothers are currently living and now playing.

"What are you up to?" Steph asked me, even as she hugged Julie back.

I took out my cell and captured their image. "It's one of my contributions to next year's Mother's Day picture tradition. I'm getting a jump on my favorite moments."

She paused for a second and then she smiled. "If you weren't _waaaay_ over there ... I'd kiss you."

"Allow me to solve that problem," I said, walking over to them to kiss her, while Julie sighed dramatically beside us.

I had thirty-seconds to enjoy the feeling of being held by my women, with my boys kicking in excitement under our hands, but my mother came out with something that distracted my wife.

"Is that what I think it is?" Steph asked.

"Yes," my mother answered. "Pumpkin lasagna in the shape of an actual pumpkin, thanks to a bundt cake pan and a meatball-skewered stem."

"Stick your lip back in, Babe," I said, cupping her face and sliding my thumb along her slightly protruding lower lip, "I promise that you'll like it regardless of her hiding a vegetable inside the pasta."

"Mama was the Queen of Sneakiness in getting vegetables into us when we were kids," Celia shared. "We were healthy and didn't know it. Our friends didn't even notice that she put spinach in the brownies and applesauce inside all of her cakes."

"You're welcome, my dear children, for providing you with healthier alternatives. Now, who wants a witch finger?"

"I do," Steph answered. "I don't even care if the finger is a cookie or a hot dog, since I saw some of each being made by two out of the four sisters, while the other two were setting up the 'food lab'."

She pointed to the wall of food that black drapes had been hung behind, with strings of white and orange lights interwoven between fake cobwebs and faux windows looking out into cemeteries and supposedly creepy forests. I've seen the worst humanity could shoot at me, so nothing scares me anymore except my family being hurt. A Halloween ghost and evil monsters just blend in with all the other ones I carry around images of.

In 'the lab', small caldrons were filled with disgusting-colored pasta. Julie informed me that the green stuff was 'toxic waste' macaroni and cheese, the purple crap is 'Halloween' spaghetti with tomato/ground beef 'brains' on top, and the red slop she said was 'Bloody Mary' pasta salad. All were hanging suspended in-between smoking pots and beakers filled first with a dry ice base and then covered with no-show containers of 'food' I swore to myself - and Stephanie - that I wouldn't touch, except for maybe the guacamole and the cauliflower mash that I hated to admit did resemble vomit and brain matter. And in my opinion, whatever's in the hollowed-out coffin bread can be buried as is.

The orange, green, and purple, glow sticks stuck inside white balloons hung in groups around the dimmed room, didn't make the menu appear any more appetizing. Nor did swapping out a few light bulbs and putting black lights in so the specialty glasses, plates, and 'radioactive' lemonade', would also be glowing. The 'litter box' cake with a small black stacked-pumpkin cat sitting beside it, didn't do anything for my appetite except make it disappear completely.

The only things that brought it back are the platters containing a baby carrot arranged pumpkin, another with sliced cucumber skulls, and turkey-based 'eyeballs', all arranged near bowls with crow feet legs filled with a Tzatziki dip. Thankfully there's also a large pumpkin holding soup I assume is primarily made of pumpkin, which had me not minding the amusing, disgusting, or digestively-unsafe, food that was also being offered because my mother made sure there are a handful of normal options.

Seeing the 'bloody' graham cracker Band-Aids, stuffed-date 'cockroaches', and far too realistic homemade worms, had me worrying that this innocent pre-party could still scar my new nieces, but the white chocolate-covered strawberry ghosts, emoji candy apples, spiced rolls that were cut before being baked to resemble pumpkins afterwards, and tacos that look back at you, offset the creepier snacks.

That being said, the whole cauliflower 'brain' which had been roasted and basted with a seasoned sauce that had it looking similar to an organ, and the meat loaf hands and feet arranged to disgusting perfection on a gravestone-shaped platter, immediately canceled the cuter stuff out. A mini-body farm is isn't, but overall the food acting as disgusting decor had my mother and Julie feeling extremely proud of themselves.

To an impartial observer, the decorations and food were a nice blend. As a man who'd rather spend the evening just talking with - and listening to - his wife and daughter, l thought the not-so-haunted Halloween house was overkill. But since Stephanie and Julie are enjoying the pre-holiday, I couldn't and wouldn't point out a single fault with it.

Tank never misses a chance to eat something my mother makes, so he got to spend more time with Julie, who is like a daughter to him, and also monopolize more of my wife's time. I used to send the men out to protect Stephanie on jobs. Now I have to order them to go home after work's done for the day just so I can have her all to myself.

There is another reason my mother and I asked Tank to come. And what made the moment even better, is Mama Manoso has no clue that she was actually helping Steph and I set up another 'surprise'. And she still has absolutely no idea another announcement is coming, which has Steph crackling with excitement and nerves. The nervousness she shouldn't be experiencing, but not having a family care about her before she was embraced by mine, she still worries about how they'll react to something she does or says, especially when it involves them.

My personal goal is before our boys are born, to get her to _see herself_ as the incredible woman we all love. The way she stepped into the fray to get everyone's eyes on her, let me know she's progressing ... and not just in her pregnancy. All she had to do to get our family to stop talking, laughing, and stealing food, was to step away from me towards them and wrap her arms around her stomach and our babies.

"Before Grandma, Val, and Albert, get here with the girls, I wanted to ask you guys ... would you like a trick or a treat?"

"Treat," my brother answered. "I don't trust you two to be gentle with your tricks."

"Look at that ... it's not even Christmas and we've got ourselves a wise man," my wife responded.

"He's more of a _wise guy_ ," Celia corrected.

"Like in he's a _mobster_?" Steph joked. "He doesn't look the type."

"He doesn't, but he does act like a smart ass."

" _Children_ ," my mother warned.

"Sorry, Mama," her first born said automatically.

"That's better. Thank you, Celia. Now about this treat of yours ...?"

"The floor is yours, Babe," I said, stepping up beside her.

"Where'd Julie go?"

"I'm right here, Steph," she answered, coming back into the living room with the arm of a gingerbread vampire already missing.

"Good. When you finish being Cookie Monster ... can you hold this for me?" She asked our daughter, passing her the steel gray envelope that was open at one end so an enclosed card can easily be slipped out. "No peeking until your dad says to read it. Okay?"

My daughter being _my_ daughter, but having had plenty of exposure to Stephanie, immediately stuffed the rest of her cookie into her mouth just so she could do a proper salute. "Yes, Ma'am," Julie said with respect, as well as a straight face.

Steph cut her eyes my way. "We may need to make a last minute change."

I kissed the grin on her mouth. "You don't want to," I pointed out.

"No, I don't. But _someone_ does have a little of her Uncle Smart ass in her."

That earned her laughs from Julie and Celia and a thumbs-up from the 'wise guy'.

"Okay, back to business," my wife stated. "Since I've been getting rounder, sleep has gotten harder. And we've been talking ..."

" _About_...?" My father asked.

"Well ..." she continued, "you all have given me something I've never had ... a family that actually _likes me_ and who _supports us_..."

"Forgive me for interrupting, Stephanie, but we don't just like you ... we absolutely _adore_ you."

She held up a hand before my mother could open the floodgates. "You don't know how much I love you just for saying that, but my hormones are all over the place and I really want to get through this before making an idiot of myself by crying, so let me finish and then you can say whatever you want to me when I have tissues handy."

I slid an arm around her and we all waited for her to take a few breaths, now that the boys are taking up more room.

"Obviously Ranger loves and appreciates all of you, you being his family and lifeline. And I was trying to figure out a way of letting you all know just how much you've come to mean to me, and what your support of me and my relationship with your son, brother, friend, has done for me and us ..."

"Ummm, Steph, you're taking an awful long time telling us what we already know ... that you love us," our daughter said. "We all love you back, but I really wanna know what's in what I'm holding."

"So do we," my siblings said.

"Alright ... stop with the heartfelt speech and get to the surprise. I get it."

"Another surprise?" Mama Manoso asked. "I thought those ended when we surprised you with your baby shower?"

"You were _hoping_ , you mean," I told her.

"Don't stop. These are fun," Twinny One said. "What are you laying on us this time?"

"Your brother and I were talking late into one night, and before I realized it happened, we'd decided on names for the boys," my wife told everyone. "You're up, Jules."

"Go ahead and read them," I told her.

"We'll explain why we picked them after Julie reads them," Steph said, obviously nervous again.

Just from hearing conversations back when Valerie had been choosing a name for Lisa, Steph learned just how opinionated, and sometimes vicious, people can be when it comes to the name of someone else's child.

Our daughter pulled out the card and I saw that her hands were shaking slightly. Her brothers are just as special to her as her siblings in Miami are. I was afraid that she'd never see me as her 'real' father, but once I accepted that I could be, she gave me the opportunity to try. Our babies are _Her Brothers_ , and there will be trouble if anyone tells her otherwise.

She hesitated before looking down at it. "This is pretty exciting," she said, glancing at us.

Steph continued the family chain and looped an arm around her shoulders so my hand could also grip Julie's.

"It is, isn't it?" Steph said, sharing a special smile with her daughter-by-choice and by-love.

"Alright, here I go. One baby brother's name will be ... ' _Trey Cameron Manoso'_ , and my other brother is ' _Jamie Marceno Manoso'_."

"Before anyone says they hate the names ..."

"We don't," Stephanie was quickly assured.

"Let me explain anyway, just so you'll know why they're so important to us."

"Breathe, Babe."

"I am. But two baby bodies are hogging _my_ body. I really wanted to make you guys feel like part of our family as much as you've made me feel like a member of yours. So we chose middle names that would have each letter of your first names represented."

The room went silent as fingers started being used to keep track of everyone's names.

"Let me make this easier on you," I said to them. "Trey's middle name _Cameron_... is **C** for _Celia_. **A** for Twinny One, _Amalia_. **M** represents Papa Manoso, _Maurice._ **E** covers a certain smart ass little brother, _Elias_. _**R**_ , of course, is for our Mama, _Rosina_. **O** is for Twinny Number Two, _Ophelia_. And **N** is our other non-twin, _Nola_."

Steph broke in. "As since _Marceno_ uses the exact same letters as _Cameron_ does, both boys will have part of every single one of you with them for their entire lives. Don't cry yet," she ordered her Mama-in-law. "There's more. Oh, and if word gets out, _**E**_ sorta does triple-duty ... for _Edna_ and _Ella_ as well so no one's feelings are hurt."

With a sniffle my men in Trenton could probably hear, my mother got the majority of her emotions under control. "How can there be more than that? My family means _everything_ to me and I never would have thought to do something like this as a gift to my in-laws."

"I don't see you as _'in-laws'_ , that's why," Steph told her.

"Stephanie's mind has become very detail-oriented lately," I said to the room.

"I'm a little scared of what I'll be like when I start 'nesting'," she admitted.

"You handled it well, since we've essentially been through that already by buying and furnishing our house here."

"That's true. Okay, back to the names. We decided on Trey for two reasons. One, because it sounds like the Spanish word for three ... _Tres,_ and we will be having _three_ kids soon, not just a single perfect one with Jules here." She received a misty teenage grin and a one-armed hug for the inclusion. "We also couldn't not acknowledge two more extremely important people in our lives by including them in the names of our babies. We purposely picked a first name we both liked that starts with ' ** _J_** ' in honor of the best big sister they could have, so we picked _**J**_ _amie_ for _**J** ulie_."

She gave our daughter a hug that wasn't quickly released before she got her next honor recipient in her sights. I followed her eyes and wanted to grin myself as he started to squirm.

"Before we decided on _Trey_ , we already knew we needed a name that started with ' ** _T_** ' for their Uncle 'Tank'. We know you'd kill us if we used _Pierre_ in anything, and I couldn't name our baby after a war machine, but both boys are going to be heavily influenced by you and have your strength, kindness, and never give up spirit."

"Do you need a tissue?" I asked him, when he went still as well as silent. "I'm sure my mother will give up one from her box."

"If your daughter wasn't here, I'd tell you where to shove it."

"You be nice, Pierre," my mother ordered, not the least bit intimidated by his size and his 'roll through everything' war nickname.

"Yes, Mrs. M.," he said with patient politeness.

The laugh Steph gave him had a hint of tears inside it. "That's your way of saying you love the idea of one of your nephews being named in honor of you, isn't it? You and Ranger are practically brothers after all."

"I said _treat_ , but this sounds more like a _trick_ ," Elias said, not minding Tank being considered my brother as much as he is.

He's probably grateful some of the 'life lesson demonstrations' were redirected towards my Battle Buddy and blood brother, so Elias got a minimal break from 'older brother syndrome', which I inflicted on him and he was forced to endure.

"It isn't a trick," I told him. "As Steph said, she feels that all of you are the reason why we have a family now, and we both want to pass your legacy of love, loyalty, and acceptance, onto our boys by including each and every one of you in their names."

It's supposed to be a 'spooky' holiday, but the Manosos can twist convention and then celebrate the hell out of it. Steph, knowing my mother so well, moved herself, as well as Julie and I, forward towards her. This holiday's typical ghosts, goblins, and scares, were replaced with joy, happy tears, and anticipation for what is still to come.


	9. Chapter 9

**Since Mrs. Manoso celebrates Veterans Day every year, I thought I'd record how she spent this one. She said heartfelt 'Thank Yous' to the RangeGuys, and hopefully with this story I'm saying the same kind of 'Thank You' to all the Veterans out there outside of Rangeman. Everything and everyone familiar belongs to Janet. Mistakes are mine.**

 **Chapter 9**

 **Ranger's POV**

"I'm still sorta new when it comes to the inner workings of my Rangeman group, so explain to me how this works ... this being Veterans Day and all. _'A Veteran is a person who served in the active military, naval, or air service, and who was discharged or released under conditions other than dishonorable'_ is the direct definition Cal read me from a Federal-type website, so what does that make you?" Steph asked me. "You have fought in wars, but although you're almost always home now, I know about some wind-trips that had nothing at all to do with sailing ..."

"More like skydiving."

One hand went to her heart and the other to her pregnant stomach. "As hot as you look in your uniform, I DO NOT want to picture the body - and man - I love so much jumping out of planes or helicopters where anyone can have at you. That's _my_ job."

"And a thorough one you're doing, Babe."

"I'm trying. You're a risk-taking guy who needs to be 'covered' _a lot_. So if you're not a Veteran because you aren't officially 'retired', but you don't disappear for weeks/months at a time anymore, yet you _do go somewhere_ when certain people call. What does that make you?"

"Special," I replied.

"You are definitely that. Your mom does make you a special cookie for Veterans Day even if you aren't technically one yet. My personal opinion is if you survive multiple people shooting at you, you deserve a cookie at the very least. I did one better and am giving you two babies for surviving so you could meet and eventually marry me."

She can still humble me without even trying. "My mother's take on it is if you're willing to die for her and her family, she's going to reward you for it no matter your title. If a complete stranger stepped between her and a cocked gun, she'd be forever grateful and the person would never be free from her gratitude. To her, our military does that on a much grander scale on a daily basis, which makes Veterans Day a sacred holiday in her eyes, not one to be turned commercial. She believes there are far more important things to think about in regards to our Veterans besides a sale. It makes her livid that there are people who flat-out ignore homeless Vets just looking for a few dollars to get them through another day, or people out there like Morelli who see us all as a threat to the public, when the exact opposite is true."

"I can vouch for that one. Just hanging around the control room kitchen waiting for a phone call or meeting of yours to end, I've learned that being a Veteran is tricky for the guys when it comes to civilians. Our Rangeguys either feel like the general public doesn't think or care about them until they're reminded to or need a photo op or award speech. Or they give _too much_ thought to one or two stories they hear and jump to all the wrong conclusions about men like you, believing that you're damaged, act crazy, or are violent. Living with you and working side by side with the guys, I know that's not the least bit true. You all have been through hell, yet you try like hell not to let anyone see that."

"Most of the world's problems are caused by making assumptions and lumping groups of people into one category without getting to know them or learning anything about their lives."

"And that's totally wrong. You can't always trust what the media pushes, or make snap judgments about people you don't know or understand. If all Vets are supposed to be time bombs, then I guess all curly-haired brunettes with Snow White complexions and a snack addiction, are disaster magnets and psycho-attractors ... if you only go by the Burg paper's stories on me. I'm with your Mom, this makes me really angry. Despite what you all have seen and done, I've never been around such a quiet, polite, and sweet, group of people until I started meeting the guys and then working with them. _I_ have more of a temper than any of you do, and I just had to survive the Burg. If you were all 'loose canons' or 'crazy', like Joe keeps accusing you of being, he would've been dead years ago. You and the guys are far saner and calmer than _I'll_ ever be. He'll tick you off, yet you just laugh at his pathetic attempts to goad you and ask if I want a coffee. He made _me_ mad, and I hit him with a Buick."

"You should have broken more than just his leg."

"I was aiming for his crotch, but his leg got in the way."

I grinned down at her and dropped a kiss in her hair before continuing our conversation. "Not many people will give the men even a chance to 'prove' that they aren't dangerous, because of their looks or military training and what emotional or physical scars resulted from it. My mother finds that completely unacceptable."

"We all should. War changes people, but it doesn't change the fact that you are ... _all_ ... _still_ ... _people_ who deserve respect, appreciation, and more than a little understanding. I'm glad our babies will have her for a grandmother just because she feels so strongly about everything. I walked into her kitchen last night after we got to Newark, and she was tearing a sale flyer into teeny, tiny pieces. Not even over the garbage where she wouldn't have to hand-sweep them up after her rampage. She did it right on the kitchen table where the newspaper had been sitting."

"She doesn't think the proper way to celebrate men and women who have signed their lives over for something bigger than themselves, is to turn it into a money-driven holiday that only offers a free meal from a pre-picked menu to actual Veterans, or a small discount on certain items or at specific stores, on what is supposed to be _their_ day. Yet it turned into a highly publicized shopping day for everyone else, with no school or work, also with no one thinking of the meaning behind the day beyond where they're going to go or what they're buying on it."

"That's what Junior was saying, that presidents serve their country for four, possibly eight, years and get cushy benefits for life. But guys like them put themselves right in the middle of danger after danger for ten, twenty, sometimes close to thirty, years and have to go around themselves proving that they were where they said they were, and that they deserve what little they do get whenever someone gets around to giving it to them. It's like they have to survive a different version of battling the enemy when they come home just to get their basic needs met. Everything has to be documented and approved at their expense it seems. And they feel used and then quickly disposed of once their jobs were done."

"The VA isn't funded and run like it should be and our people die because of it. One of my men at the Boston branch was pissed about a Veteran's Agent in a nearby town. The asshole sent a personal letter to every family _he's_ supposed to be helping and supporting to tell them how he was being deployed, trying to garner sympathy and attention for himself."

"And he wasn't going anywhere?" She asked, already looking angry at the deception.

"He was ... to California for _management_ training. He was never leaving the States, and wasn't in danger of dying of anything except boredom."

"What a fucking jerk. I thought Dickie was pathetic with his 'bone spur' excuse for not helping anyone except himself. Even I have the balls to admit I couldn't even survive boot camp, let alone combat."

"There's no beating Dickie in a No-Nuts contest, but the agent proceeded to go on a day trip to a desert spot in the area and take a picture of himself holding the American Flag. He posted it on his Facebook page, implying that he's somewhere else without actually saying so."

"If you get me his name, I'll be happy to ask him how **CALIFORNIA** is. I'll use all capitals and bold letters so no one misses that he's just in another state, not a war zone."

"A co-worker of his already did, and the picture has since been deleted, but I love how quick you were to offer to stand up to him for people who truly deserve the prayers, stay safes, and thank yous."

"Why wouldn't I? That's horrible. Guys like mine have to watch friends die right beside them and still keep calm and do their jobs before they can fall apart. And that asshole is just ordering take-out at night and taking leisurely sightseeing strolls through parks on weekends. Anyone with feelings would be upset at how wrong that is. You hear about stolen valor, but this is like stolen credit and concern."

"Which is why people like you and my mother are so important to Veterans and Active Duty Military, so they're not left feeling forgotten ... _there_ or _here_. Even it being someone you don't know, if they take an oath to protect not only their own families, but civilians like her and you, by taking on entire countries for ours, they become included in my mother's extended family and she feels it's her right to smother them in gratitude everyday, but today especially."

"By handing out cookies along with personal notes of thanks?" She asked, automatically grabbing my hand and placing it where either Trey or Jamie, or both, were as my mother would say ... roughhousing. But unlike Mama Manoso, I'm not about to tell them to stop. If anything, I always move my hand more just to encourage the play and our interaction with them.

Knowing we'll be parents to twins in under two months is terrifying and unbelievable at the same time. And few things have I looked forward to more. I'm almost as excited to meet them as I am to discover another side to Stephanie. She changed a lot just from jumping from girlfriend to fiancée and then finally to my wife. Going from wife to mother of three no doubt will have her looking at her life, and life in general, differently.

"One of our boys played himself into a case of hiccups," I told her, feeling a familiar movement under my hand.

"I'll take hiccups over the somersaults and kickboxing lessons they were both doing earlier."

She's been handling this pregnancy well, but her discomfort has been steadily growing along with our babies, yet when my mother called this morning and announced that she was going to Trenton while we were already in Newark, Steph wanted to tag along to see what she was planning to do for my men. I offered to drive them. Steph quickly threw on a navy blue and red striped sweater over a pair of jeans. She added her Chucks and she was ready to roll.

My mother required more prep time. The smile she wore wasn't one that needed to be painted on, it was there naturally. Ever since I decide on a career with the Army, she became an advocate for Veterans, Active Duty service members, and their families. Today being Veterans Day, means she's in her element. She gets to combine her two loves ... baking and showing people that she cares about them.

Once here at Rangeman, Steph and I just stood back and let my mother work her magic and cast a maternal spell over the Vets and non-Vets alike. Her thank you letters will be talked about for years to come. She handed them out along with her edible thanks tucked inside clear cellophane bags tied with red, white, and blue, curled ribbons. The men I call friends as well as employees, didn't mind her reading her letters out loud to them so all of my men who are Veterans received multiple thanks by being discussed and appreciated in different ways in each of her letters. A gift for one was really a gift for all who were willing to give their all for their country ... even if it included their lives.

"They've survived multiple tours overseas, but I doubt they'll make it through your mother's gratitude," Steph whispered to me.

"Probably not, but they'll try like hell," I answered, holding onto my wife as we continued to talk and watch my mother instantly turn war-hardened men back into little boys whose mothers just told them all what a good job they've done.

Tank was first up out of my core team ... him being used to how expressive my family is by now, followed after by letters for Bobby, Lester, Cal, and my former cousin-in-law Sybo Diaz.

" _My Dearest Pierre ... not only am I thankful for what you do, have done, and the love you continue to bring to our family, but I will be forever grateful for you protecting my son when - and where - I couldn't anymore. I consider you, and love you like, one of my own children, because to me ... you are one of them. This country was lucky to have you on the front lines, but I am so much luckier because I have you back home now and can spend time with you every week as you help me watch over my Carlos and his growing family. While today is your day, I want you to remember that you make mine better everyday. Love you always, Mrs. M. and your Manoso family."_

Bobby stopped playfully punching an embarrassed Tank when my mother started on him next.

 _"Bobby Dear ... Thank you for what you've done for our country and in defense of it. We were in good hands with you, I know, but I am so glad to have you back home so we can take care of you like you were fighting every day to take care of us. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, and I hope you know and feel that ... in my heart, you are one of my own. I love you and thank you, and your name is spoken with love in my prayers every day and every single night. Love, Mama Manoso and family."_

Lester had an 'Oh shit' look on his face when Mama Manoso turned to him.

 _"My Little Lester ... while I know - and was reminded often - that you are 'the best' at what you do, I still held my breath until yours and Bobby's mothers called to tell me that they've heard from you and that you were alright. Not only did I cry happy tears for you whenever you came home, they were also proud ones. You've grown into a man I am fortunate to know and one I'm forever indebted to. You fought hard and fought often, but you never once lost sight of why you enlisted, even now that you're home for good. That is just one more thing I admire about you and as a citizen thank you for. We love you, Mama Manoso and every member of the Manoso family."_

Cal's expressionless face became wary and then flushed when my mother aimed herself at him.

" _Sweet Cal ... Life hasn't gone easy on you, but you turned it around and made it into one you can be proud of. You stood up for what you believed in, protected people who will never know your name or your story, and all of us who love you know you would do everything the same if you could because you live a life of no regrets. You'll never say, especially to yourself, what an amazing man you are, but you don't have to. Anyone who spends more than two minutes in your presence will attest to that. I love you and appreciate your service, sacrifices, and dedication, to our country more than I can say. I feel blessed to have another Godsent Son sent to make my family's lives richer who has also made our country safer. I give you my deepest thanks. Love always, Mama Manoso and the entire Manoso family."_

Bobby and Lester both got behind Diaz and pushed him forward into the 'spotlight' which they knew he'd hate.

 _"My Special Sybo ... your heart matches the size of your honor, tenacity, and loyalty. It takes a strong person to not only go to war and survive it, but to come home and start their lives all over again, and then all over once again. You've done that and more ... for our country, my family, and the state of New Jersey. 'Thank you' are only two small words, but when I say them to you, and Veterans just like you, they hold a deeper meaning. They mean I respect, admire, appreciate, and love you, for putting our freedom before your own needs. It's the ultimate in selfless acts. The only way I can repay that is to be the kind of person worthy of that sacrifice, and do whatever I can to make the transition back to civilian life easier for all of you so you no longer have to fight. Love you, Mama Manoso and what is still your Manoso family."_

Diaz, being one of our team members that had been emotionally closed off the longest, was flushed and sweating slightly even before my mother kissed his cheek when she handed him his cookie. After she was done supporting all the former troops on the fifth floor, leaving some blinking rapidly at being acknowledged so completely, she came back to where Steph and I had been talking. The first four floors Mama Manoso had already plowed through, leaving plenty of cleared throats and uncomfortable yet proud grins in her wake.

"Don't make that face at me, Carlos. Stephanie happened to let it slip that _she_ now gets the cookie _you_ normally give to _Pierre_ , which I'm _not_ upset about in case you were going to ask, so I had to make him one ..."

"You had an entire basket full of cookies, Mama," I pointed out. "Even Tank couldn't eat all of them for lunch."

"Yeah, he could," Steph added. "But I knew the other ones were for our guys."

"I didn't want anyone to feel left out, so even your non-Veteran men got something because I do appreciate how they protect us here everyday. They didn't get my flag cookies, mind you. They received Snickerdoodles instead. My decorated sugar cookies are reserved for a highly-decorated group of special people."

This year's 'flag cookies' are sugar cookies painstakingly rolled and cut out into heart shapes that were then iced to resemble the American Flag. In the white stripes she included messages written in black edible ink that passed on sentiments like _'I'm not only thanking you today, I think of you everyday_.' or ' _Your_ _sacrifices will never go unacknowledged or unappreciated. With much love, thank you_.' Another said ... ' _A lifetime of thanks will never be enough to repay you for what you've done and given up in your life so I could live mine_. _' 'You didn't have to enlist, but this country is a better and stronger place because you did. Thank you._ ' ... read another. She used my men's names on each recipient's cookie, so despite the baked-nature of her gift, hers wasn't a cookie cutter 'thank you', but one felt in her heart and soul, because that's what food is to her ... a gesture of love from her to those who enjoy it.

"They are pretty special and amazing guys," Steph agreed. "Though they see my _not_ baking them something as a _huge_ thank you to them. But I did hug every one of them when we got here, and not only thanked them for their service, with them saying the many sacrifices they've made were worth it, but for doing things that I can't ..."

"You put away the bad guys here, Steph," I pointed out. "You _are_ doing some good yourself for the world."

"Nice try, but you are not deflecting my appreciative-love for you or them. I also thanked them for doing whatever it took to keep themselves alive _then_ so our babies can have them for Uncles now. I honestly can't picture them not being here helping us raise our boys.''

My mother circled Steph's shoulders with an arm. "That kind of 'thank you' would beat any cookie, even mine."

"The guys did look slightly embarrassed, but also happy to be included in our family. Ranger trusts them with me ..."

" _Only_ when _I'm_ not around," I reminded her. "I trust _no one_ to take care of you more than I trust myself."

"I know. You're my first choice, too. But I trust them completely and know our boys will grow up to be incredible men, having these guys for role models. Our babies already have an unfair advantage when it comes to greatness by having _you_ for a Daddy."

"This is another reason why we love you so much, Stephanie," my mother said. " _You_ can say what _we_ feel in a way Carlos will listen to and accept. All of my children are incredibly special and deserve someone who will immediately see that in them. Speaking of special, before I called you this morning, I had coffee with someone who also loves you both. And they have something for you. You two, dear ones, aren't the _only_ ones who can orchestrate a surprise that will cause tears."

"Now what have you done?" I asked.

"And who were you having coffee with?" Steph asked.

"The woman stepping off the elevator right ... about ... _now_."

Even the elevator couldn't contain Aunt Tatty. The doors opened and she all but shot out of it, leaving my father in her dust. Steph and I immediately knew what's coming. I caught Vince's eye.

"Get Stephanie the box of tissues from her desk," I ordered him.

Much like Julie did on Halloween, he finished his flag cookie in one bite and went to retrieve the item requested with a quick 'Yes, Sir' muffled by the demolished cookie.

"Make it _two_!" Steph called out. "There's another box in the second drawer on the right."

Once he came back with the Kleenex, I moved my family into my office. My mother and Tatty together are a handful, add in a pregnant Stephanie ... and I have to handle this emotion-bomb carefully. Aunt Tatty didn't beat around the bush. She's proof that there are multiple ways of taking no prisoners.

"I know you don't consider yourself a Veteran because you can't resist stepping in when a situation has to be diffused or somebody needs to be rescued or taught a lesson _Ranger-style_ ," she began, "but I want you to know that I love you, appreciate every hard thing you've had to do in your life, and respect the hell out of the man you became almost overnight from where I was sitting. When you ran into trouble as a hot-headed teenager with something to prove, I offered to keep you with me and straighten your behind out myself, but your parents wanted you far away from that life. I must say, it must've been the right decision because you are an incredible man who I'm proud to stand here in front of today to say thank you for all you have done for us as a nation. And on a more personal note ... thank you for all the joy and hijinx you have brought to my life. You are a very special man and I love every stubborn cell you're made of."

"Crap ... I thought it was our babies Manoso eggs that were going to get me, but _that_ did it," Steph said, trying to catch each tear before they could fall from her lashes down to her cheeks.

I reached out and pulled her to me, tucking her under my arm so hers would come around me and our boys would also be in contact with me.

"You ain't the only one who loves the stuffin' out of this one, Stephanie," Tatty told her. "We had to take a backseat once he met you, but we're still here."

"And thank you all for always being there for me no matter where I was mentally or geographically," I told everyone in the room.

"You were my baby once, Carlos," my mother said, "and though you may be a lot bigger, with babies of your own now, you will ALWAYS be my precious boy."

"We do love you more than words can express. And you know what Tatty's eggs mean ..." my father added.

"I do," I told him.

"I don't," Steph said, "aside from I'll be in danger of crying these babies right out of me when we open that box."

"The egg tree is at my parents' house, Babe."

It took less than a second for her to catch on. "Okay, I get it now. We don't have to worry about lunch or dinner today, because we'll be having both with our family again."

"It _is_ a holiday after all," Papa Manoso reminded us. "Your mother has already invited the men who have the afternoon/evening off to come over and join us. There's ..."

" _Plenty of food_ ," my wife and I finished together for him.

"Before we get to the grub, I want you two to have these ... well, until Rosina here takes possession of them," Tatty told us.

"I don't mind handing our gift over to someone else in this case," Steph answered. "Our boys being so loved before they're even born is the only gift I need ... well that and Ranger, Julie, and my Rangeman and Manoso families. Everything else isn't necessary."

"And if I say I made a pineapple-upside-down cake especially for you, Stephanie?" Her mother-in-law asked.

"Okay, it isn't _necessary_ , but I am excited to hear that. But it's supposed to be a day for Ranger and the guys ..."

"Don't you worry, I've made all of my Carlos' favorite foods."

"Wait, he has some favorites?" Steph asked. "I thought he ate to keep himself alive ... and that was about it."

"He loves quietly, but deeply ... even when it comes to his Mama's recipes that I've changed to fit his growing and health-conscious needs. Except for my roast chicken. That will forever remain the same."

Steph smacked my chest gently. " _I knew it!_ You suffered through my family that time during the Dickie 'disappearance' for _the roast chicken!_ All the while you said it'd take more than that to get you to have dinner at my parents' house. Sorry about that, I should _never_ have inflicted them on you."

"I agreed to dinner to keep an eye on you, and so you'd have another example of how real men behave. How they should always put their woman over everything and everybody, especially themselves. In regards to the chicken, my mother's is still undefeated."

"Was there any doubt?" Mama Manoso asked.

I kissed her cheek. "No."

"Is _your chicken_ upstaging _my eggs_?" Aunt Tatty asked.

"Not at all," Steph answered. "I've been waiting for this moment since I heard you were already thinking about them."

"Well, let us end the wait. Open it when you're ready. One baby is enough to get the waterworks going. _Two_ was tough to paint through."

" _You_ were crying?" I asked.

"Fuck, no. I love these babies to death already, but _I_ wasn't the one with waterfall-eyes," she said, jerking a thumb towards my mother.

"Don't listen to Tatty. I was _a rock_ around her when she was working on them."

"Of course you were," I said, taking the glossy white gift box that had black lines across the lid and bottom of the box to mimic ribbons.

I held it so Steph could take the top off. As excited as she is to see what Aunt Tatty had done for our family, she'd be afraid to drop it.

"Oh God, they are perfect for our babies, Tatty!" Steph said, around the fingers pressed to her lips as she brought her hand to them. "I'm saying thank you from them, since they are kicking their approval as we speak."

"They're likely reacting to what they feel from you, Steph," I told her.

"They're feeling a lot then, because these are absolutely beautiful. You are one heck of an artist, Aunt Tatty," she said, picking up one of the family eggs like she'd just discovered a pot of gold she wasn't sure was real.

I picked up the other one. Both hardwood eggs are now a sky blue color. A mountain range was painted on the back of one, with hot air balloons floating above a small lake. The scene continued onto the back of the second egg, and the balloons were floating among the clouds before the image ended with a mirroring set of mountains. Tatty's attention to detail and meaning is impeccable and the hot air balloons were painted as the flags representing mine and Stephanie's backgrounds ... with Cuba, Italy, and Hungary, all being included ... along with a center balloon in honor of the country that is ours that I've fought to protect and survived to return to.

Both Trey and Jamie's names were written in their entirety on the front of their eggs, but Tatty had added to the back of Trey's egg ... ' _Your first breaths took ours away_ ' between the mountains and hot air balloons, above the small lake. And on the back of Jamie's, she put her calligraphy skills to even more use and wrote ... ' _Your adventures await'_ in the sky on his egg.

On the front were their full names, _'Trey Cameron Manoso_ ' and ' _Jamie Marceno Manoso_ ' but Aunt Tatty clearly was looking to cause a tear-flood. _'Mommy's Heart'_ was 'carved' under Trey's name in the middle of one puzzle piece-shape painted to look like a section of tree wood. ' _Daddy's World_ ' was on a complementary carved puzzle piece below Jamie's name. When Steph and I held the eggs side by side, we could see how they complete the two-piece puzzle, each other, and our family.

 **A/N: The eggs for the Manoso boys are a mash-up of various things and quotes I've seen ... combined with my own puzzle twist.**


	10. Chapter 10

**All familiar characters belong to Janet. The mistakes are solely mine.**

 **Chapter 10**

 **Ranger's POV**

"Considering the meaning behind the day, I'm _thankful_ that this dress actually still fits me," Steph told me, as she came out of the bathroom. "I bought it last week when I went out with Celia, fully knowing that I was cutting it close size-wise. Of course, the straps have to be adjusted again to accommodate this mountain range I have going." She gestured to the front of her body. "Instead of a Chia _pet_ , I swear I have Chia _boobs_ ... they grow as you stand there looking at them."

I couldn't pass up that kind of visual experiment. My eyes went to the chest slightly on display. "I can attest to that. And I am _thankful_ for them."

"You do seem to enjoy using your hands as measuring devices on a daily basis. Can you fix the straps for me?"

"I've been patiently waiting for an opportunity to offer my assistance."

She was going to present me with her partially bare back, but she stopped mid-turn and shook a finger at me.

"No funny business, either," she warned.

That is one thing I will _never_ promise her. You'd think making love to your wife would be more difficult with twins between you, but we've made it work ... and work extremely well. Consistently telling and showing her how beautiful, amazing, and strong, I think she is, lessened her feeling uncomfortable with her changing body and it being naked around me. And finding different positions that gave her maximum pleasure and no discomfort made our time together even more exciting on top of it already being enjoyable for all involved.

I fixed the thin straps so they wouldn't dig into her shoulders, and I pressed a kiss to one bare one before sliding my hands up her arms, slowly spinning her around to face me again.

"Maybe you should have chosen something with sleeves," I said, though I'm not complaining about my current view. "You're going to be cold."

I approve of her choice despite the less-covered nature of her dress. I _would_ enjoy it because how she looks right now is second only to watching her walk around our house or apartment in just one of my shirts, which she started doing recently, claiming she wasn't spending 'a fortune' on clothes at the start of each new week of pregnancy. There is nothing bulky about the fabric covering her now. The top of her dress is a blush-colored lace that looks similar to a fitted camisole. The white knee-length skirt part of her outfit is also curve-hugging, with a sexy slit in the back so she could walk easily. The nude heels she'd put on, I have less faith in that she'll be able to walk comfortably. There is a sidewalk, and the snow that's falling isn't sticking to the ground, but she could still slip if I don't keep an arm or two around her at all times.

"No, I won't. It's a short walk ... no we _are not_ driving," she told me, knowing exactly what I'm thinking. "I'll be fine. You know your parents will have a fire going, their tree lit, and candles flickering everywhere. I'll be all toasty five minutes after we get inside. You know ... I saw a winter jacket that has a built-in baby pocket so the baby will be bundled up, too, all tucked up against you. But I didn't see one in duo-baby form. Oooh ... unless they have a daddy version of the jacket. I should've looked. We, and they, would be covered - literally - if they did."

"Are you planning on doing a lot of outside activities with two newborns?" I asked. "I remember a time you would refuse to even get out of bed if you saw flurries flying outside your bedroom window."

"You can't blame me. Those were the times you were in my bed with me."

"I'm not convinced I was the sole reason for you trying to avoid an entire season."

She moved to our bedroom window and shoved the curtains further to the side. "See ... there are flurries coming down now and I'm anxious to go out in them."

"You make it impossible to argue with you sometimes."

"So don't. If women can give birth in trees during a natural disaster, or in a cab during a below-zero blizzard, I can walk for the three of us just a few feet down the street. I'm a Jersey girl, which means I can do a cross-country trek across frozen tundra in five-inch heels and not fall once while flipping Jack Frost the bird."

Although I've seen her run adeptly in them, I'm not reassured. "If you want _me_ to stay warm, you could let me carry or just drive you."

She cupped my face in both hands and kissed me. It was the kind of kiss that would've ruined her lipstick, but given the frequency of our lips finding each other's, she's become an expert on what brands won't smear on her or come off on me.

"That was a nice try. And I do love you even more for attempting it, but I'll be okay. Now ... before we head over to your parents' house, I have something for you. Since you always say you're thankful for me, and now the boys, and always Julie ... though she wasn't in town when this was done or she would've been included."

I don't like surprises, but all the ones that come from Stephanie, I've loved. So I'm curious more than wary.

"I _am_ thankful, grateful, and lucky, to have convinced you to be my wife, Babe. That's never been BS."

"I know, which is why I didn't argue with your sister's idea."

Now the wariness set in big time. "Which sister?"

"Amalia."

I relaxed again. If it was Celia or Nola, I'd be expecting the box Steph pulled out from a drawer in the closet to be rigged to blow glitter or cake-scent all over whoever unwisely opened it.

"It won't explode," she told me, once again correctly guessing my thoughts. " _I promise_. I definitely want to remember this time in our lives, and I thought you would too, especially now that it's almost over. And what better day to give this to you on, than one where we're supposed to celebrate all we have to be thankful for ... so here you go. Open it. It was done on that day Mary Lou, Ophelia, and Amalia, were visiting us at Rangeman. I went along with their suggestions since the boys will be outside of my body soon instead of safely tucked inside it."

I lifted the top off of a metallic gold polka-dotted gift box, pushed aside the ivory tissue paper, and all the air was immediately sucked out of my lungs. It was a simple black and white photo inside a sterling silver frame, but it was a shot of Stephanie ... which to me made it absolutely priceless. I recognized the window in the background as the one in our bedroom at Rangeman. Steph was standing so the side of her beautiful, and very pregnant body, was in profile. The lack of color stripped down any potential distractions and my eyes ate up every detail of my wife ... from her familiar curly-haired ponytail, to the gentle, turned-up slope of her nose, the fullness of the lips I already miss feeling on me, the sweet curve of her breasts, down to the roundness of where our boys won't be for much longer.

It's a breathtaking shot with the sunlight streaming in from the window offsetting the shadowy room. Her hands were resting above and below her stomach which to me felt like a private hug from her to her boys. I could barely detect the stretchy Rangeman uniform I know she'd been wearing, all I saw was _her_. Her clothes, the room, and the window, were secondary to the woman starring in the photo.

"You're not saying anything," Steph prompted. "Do you like it? I thought it looked okay. And Amalia said it's one of her favorites out of all the pictures she's taken ..."

"It's beautiful, Babe. _You're_ beautiful."

"I know you have to say that, but ..."

"I don't _have_ to do _anything_. I say only what I mean."

Her arms came around me. "Of course you do. So you like it."

I got through to her because it wasn't a question this time. To prove that I _more_ than like it, I moved us closer to the bed.

"Anything you have in mind that involves the bed ... better also include my dress, because I doubt I'll be able to get back into it."

I bent my head to her neck. "Thank you for giving me some ideas," I said, against the pounding pulse I found there.

"Like _those ideas_ weren't already there?" She teased.

"They were." I straightened and put the picture of her beside the one I already have sitting on my nightstand of her and Julie. "But I did want to put this where it will be the most appreciated."

"I'm requesting one in advance of you and Julie holding the boys for my side of the bed."

"Consider it done," I told her before kissing her mouth, suddenly regretful that we have to leave.

But we did leave our house after getting our coats on and I grabbed something from the kitchen that Steph wanted. My wife was right. The air was cold enough for us to see our breath in front of us during our five-minute 'trek', and it was still snowing lightly on and around us, but inside the Manoso homestead was a family-fueled seventy-eight degrees. Due to the contrasting temperatures, the downstairs windows had a familiar layer of steam covering the inside of them from all the cooking, baking, and talking, that had already been generated within these walls. The only way I could accurately describe the scent is to say the house smells exactly like _home_. This is the same scent I used to dream about while on missions when I was able to catch a rare hour or two of sleep.

In deference to the holiday, the Manoso Christmas tree was set up and the white lights are already lit even though it's not dark inside or out, but the _Christmas_ ornaments had been left off until Thanksgiving has been fully celebrated. In their place were glitter-snow edged pine cones, gingerbread 'acorns' along with real ones, and actual fall leaves treated with something to make their red spectrum of the rainbow have an iridescent copper shine to each leaf when the tree lights hit them. Solar powered candles are also in every window, so in essence and effect, this house alone could change the name of the holiday from _Thanksgiving_ to _Welcomesgiven_.

Among all of the harvest decor, Steph's offering/craft project was the only thing with a sense of playfulness about it. Everything else was specifically chosen to follow an exact color scheme. Today, stands a very different home than the haunted one from Halloween. The witches are gone, Mr. Claus hasn't arrived yet, but Mother Nature and Mama Manoso are each patting themselves on the back for capturing the unique beauty of this time of the year where we transition from colored leaves falling on still green grass to snow shovels.

"What have you brought with you?" My mother asked, as she hurried to usher us far from any possible escape routes and further into the lion's den.

"Sorry," Steph said. "I wanted Julie to feel like she's with us today even though she couldn't be here. We started talking about food and other fun stuff, and she dared me to make that. So yeah ... you're stuck with a hollow Rice Krispie Treat turkey filled with M&Ms. Ranger shot a short video of me making it to send to her. When she sent an immediate thumbs-up back, I knew I had to bring it despite it being a 'unique' food and decoration."

"I'm so glad you did bring it, Dear," her mom-in-law said. "I have yet to meet anyone who doesn't have a fondness for those little treats. It can go right next to the real turkeys." I caught the teasing glint in her eyes and waited for what she'd say next. "They're like _twins_ after all."

The real and the fabricated turkey are similar in the way they're shaped, since Steph opted for a full roast turkey design, complete with paper 'drumstick' covers. But if the turkey we are supposed to eat is the color of Rice Krispie treats, we'd be thankful we all made it to the ER to get our stomachs pumped before food poisoning had a chance to really set in.

All kidding aside, my mother is more than happy to indulge Julie through Stephanie. While the Halloween decorations had been geared towards fun, Thanksgiving is all earth-toned elegance. There are flowers arranged inside tinted glass pumpkins, which included orange roses, gerbera daisies, and carnations, in varying fall hues on every end table. There are potted autumnal-colored yellow, orange, and red, chrysanthemums flanking the doors, stairs, and placed on any surface that could support the planters.

Over the dining room table _someone_ , I'd guess Celia with our mother coaching from the sidelines, had taken fishing line and strung fall leaves from the ceiling down to the table. Since you can't immediately see how the craft store leaves had been hung, it did appear as if they were falling freely from the ceiling to join the leaves sprinkled on the table among the candles set inside small bronze holders that spelled out " _Blessed Are We_ " down the length of the table runner the color of burnished gold. There are also five-inch high floral arrangements and assorted miniature gourds to hold down the leaves in case the autumnal scene suddenly came to life and a gust of snowy wind tried to blow them away. The Damask tablecloth is a wine red, all the placemats are pumpkin-colored, and the stacked plates at every seat ranged from gold, pumpkin, to ivory, in color. And the candlelight was reflected in every glass on the table.

The 'appetizer' table had been set up in the living room between two short beige, marble columns shouldering the load of two more dramatic flower arrangements. In the center of all the bite size treats was an edible cornucopia made from bread dough, with a barely detectable platter holding Cuban-inspired fruit salad that spilled out from inside it. Stuffed mushroom caps, mini-cranberry brie tarts, salami/cream cheese roll ups already on crackers, antipasto skewers, stuffed jalapenos, and spinach dip tucked inside puff pastry shells, are just a sample of what I know is inside the kitchen waiting for its chance to be eaten and appreciated. All are proof that I don't need, that _no one_ aside from Stephanie will be eating for a week after leaving here.

My mother even added Steph's favorite snack for this phase of her pregnancy ... slices of ham spread with mayo, topped with dill pickles, and then rolled into cigar shapes. The closest I'll get to them is by kissing her after she's eaten one. Steph continues to joke that it's how she can tell that I really love her ... because I'm not afraid to kiss her after she's been crying or after she's eaten something I find morally and orally reprehensible.

"Mama messed with tradition a little this year," Nola informed us, taking a sip from her apple cider mimosa.

After our coats had been stored away for the afternoon/evening, drinks were quickly placed in our hands as a holiday warm-up.

Cranberry margaritas, mimosas, bourbon pecan pie cocktails, and apple pie on the rocks, along with white and red wines for the older Manosos, were available drinks for those not driving today. For Steph, myself, and the designated drivers, sparkling cranberry/pomegranate punch, non-alcoholic hot pumpkin nog, and cranberry lime spritzers, were freely deposited into any empty hand. _Thanksgiving_ for the Manosos is like the _Olympics_ is for athletes.

"She didn't really mess with it much," my little brother, Elias, added. "Mama would never not make me her pumpkin pie. And Grandma Rosa brought the chocolate bourbon pecan pie and pumpkin pecan cobbler. Those are traditional."

"But the cinnamon roll apple pie," Celia said, gesturing towards the kitchen where the food is being lovingly tended by our grandmothers while the grandfathers continued to try to sneak bites of everything when their backs were turned, "orange/cranberry custard pie, and actual _pasta_ pie. Plus that pumpkin lasagna, are new."

"I'm happy to hear that one mentioned," Steph said. "I actually loved the pumpkin-shaped lasagna from Halloween, even if it did have pumpkin inside it."

Ophelia gave her sister-in-law a sympathetic pat on the arm. "Mama will beam from the inside out at that compliment from you, but this is a pumpkin _dessert_ lasagna ... made with a nut crust, and cream cheese, pudding, pumpkin, and whipped cream, layers."

"I can say even without tasting it first that I'll like that one even more than the Halloween one," was Steph's reply.

"Of course you will, my dear Stephanie," Mama Manoso said, materializing like a ninja again from behind us this time. "That was my intention. I want my grandsons to love my cooking early on. So if you enjoy my meals, they will be born with an ingrained appreciation for them."

"I'm not sure that's how it works, Mama," I told her.

"And if it is," Steph added, "if they appreciate your food any more, they'll be born the size of dump trucks."

"If I were you, I'd be crossing myself after saying something like that," Elias told my wife. "I've known since I was six where babies come from, but how they come out still seems like something evolution needs to work on."

" _You're telling me?!_ " Steph agreed with interest. "Which is why I _did_ cross myself ... on the inside. Now that we're reaching the finish line, I'm starting to get really concerned about the whole labor thing. I've been vacationing in Denial Land, telling myself whenever I'd get nervous that by the time they're done cooking in here," she said, curling an arm around her stomach, "someone would have discovered a different, less painful, way of getting them out of there."

"I'll be right there beside you, getting you through the entire process, Babe. No worries."

"That's easy for _you_ to say. If you had to force two human beings out of your _South Pole_ , you'd have a worry or two."

I hadn't warned her not to say things like that when either Nola or Elias had food in their mouths, because she'd then be in danger of wearing it. I moved her back just in time to avoid a partially-chewed food shower.

Celia followed us out of the danger zone and hugged Stephanie hard. "I just love you, Steph. You are definitely one of us. You fit into our family perfectly," she told my wife.

While she was expecting just a smile from Stephanie as she pulled back, I knew my wife's eyes would also be bright with tears she'll refuse to shed. I pulled Steph to my side and spoke for her to give her a minute to compose herself. She's fine crying over gifts for, or talk about, our boys, but she for damn sure won't want to cry for her poor excuse for parents and how unloved and unwanted they continue to make her feel.

"With me, with _us_ , is exactly where she belongs. And she always will," I stated. "She's very much a Manoso."

"Carlos, you may want to save statements like those for the dinner assignment I'm giving everyone," my mother warned me.

Apparently photographic evidence on Mother's Day isn't enough for her, she wants to remind us to be grateful more than just a few days out of 365 of them.

"Mama doesn't only want us to enjoy today, she wants a top five list of our blessings," Ophelia explained.

"Why wait for dinner or Mother's Day?" I asked. "I can answer that one right now. I'm thankful for my wife, Julie, our boys, having all of you for my family, and I'm grateful that I made it back home every time I was sent away from it."

It's clear that they require turkey in their stomachs in order to absorb that kind of honesty, because we all had an unplanned moment of silence after I spoke.

"I'm beyond grateful for all of those, too," Steph said, "but I know that was said to make us stop our thoughts in their tracks so you could postpone the food-fest that's going to be starting soon. I can feel your longing for a green drink and the gym as we speak."

As intended, the family laughed and a dark cloud of memories was lifted just as a collective prayer was sent out to all those living through the same thing today ... whether through memories or their current reality. I'm luckier than a lot of men I've served with, and there's not a day that goes by that I don't remind myself of that and appreciate everything in my life that much more.

I smiled at Stephanie as I pushed those thoughts away. "You know me _too_ well," I told her.

"I do," she said, before going up on tiptoes to say something directly into my ear so only I'd hear her words. " _I'm_ profoundly grateful for _you_. Everything good in my life ... I have because of you, a husband I love more than anything, this family, these babies, an exceptional daughter, my job, and a happy marriage. Thank you for never giving up there, and never once giving up on me here."

"Rangers don't know the meaning of the words _give up_ , Babe."

"That sounds a little like a warning from _your_ Ranger, Steph," my brother wisely pointed out.

"It was," I said.

There's no reason to lie about my intentions towards her anymore.

"And I have no problem at all with that, _warning_ or _promise_ , since I'm not going anywhere except to the dining room," Steph said, tugging me along with her.

As always, wherever she goes ... I'm either right beside her or half a step behind her.

My grandfathers, with my parents hovering, brought out two turkeys besides Stephanie's cereal one. One bird was roasted and basted in the oven, while my father was in charge of the one in the smoker. Steph leaned over to me to say she suspects some sort of holiday voodoo is afoot, because all the sides made it to the table at the same time as the turkeys. And all the dishes that were supposed to be, remained piping hot in the process.

This year's menu included almond/cranberry slaw as an alternative to the usual turkey Caesar salad Abuelo Manoso loves. My preferred apple/sweet potato quinoa salad and riced-cauliflower stuffing in lieu of the standard bread-based ones, were made special for me. Since I'm the minority at the table because I don't view today as an eat until you explode event, the majority had their choice of corn pudding, baked granny smith apples filled with sausage stuffing, ripe plantains stuffed with Chorizo and mozzarella cheese, and a layered heart attack that has a base of macaroni and cheese with a one-inch thick layer of toasted, Stuffing-flavored potato chips on top of it.

Shredded Brussels Sprouts with cranberries and pistachios, Parmesan cheese and bacon green beans, twice-baked maple syrup and walnut sweet potatoes, along with the traditional whipped potatoes made with sour cream and chives, added with my grandmother's _Papas Rellenas_... Cuban potato balls, rounded out Thanksgiving dinner. And to aid in digestion, there's a vat of turkey gravy to help wash everything down. For a few lighter choices, my mother also included a turkey orzo soup, pumpkin and mushroom risotto, and roasted butternut squash/kale/and lemon soup. I already know what Steph will be having for lunch tomorrow ... and for an entire week afterwards.

My wife and I felt eyes on us the entire evening and over the course of dinner. The tension had built up to palpable by the time the table started to be cleared. We were expecting them to be expecting a surprise or an announcement of some kind, so neither Steph nor I said anything until the dishes were already washing in the dishwasher, the platters and pots were cleaned and put away, and all the grandparents were getting their bags of leftovers packed up. That's when we decided to have a little fun informing them of another change in our lives. Hearing my voice stopped the progress my parents were making to reach the closet in order to get our coats for us.

"Since Stephanie and I want to stick close to home when the boys are born," I started to say, feeling Steph lean into me. I put my arms around my little family as I addressed the much larger one again. "We'll be staying full-time in our house here for the first few weeks of their lives. And in-between feedings, diaper changes, and visits from all of you and our Rangeman family, Steph and I will be discussing and overseeing renovations on that old industrial building on Sussex Ave."

"We've talked about this a lot lately," Steph interrupted, "that if our kids are going to be living here half of the time, we need to make sure Newark is as safe for them as Trenton is. Since it's not Christmas yet, I get to say ... instead of Santa ... a Rangeman building is coming to town."


	11. Chapter 11

**All familiar characters belong to Janet. The likely 'merry' multitude of mistakes are mine alone. :)**

 **Chapter 11**

 **Ranger's POV**

"What time are your parents expecting us?" Steph asked me, as we were leaving our bedroom.

"If you go by what they'd prefer, they'd want us there for breakfast, but their Christmas Eve festivities don't technically start until six tonight, which means she's expecting us at four the latest."

"That works out perfectly."

"Babe."

"It'll only take a second. You worry too much."

I followed her down the stairs and into the kitchen, not believing what I'm seeing. We didn't get a lot of sleep, but that isn't the cause of my raised eyebrow and drawn mouth.

"I'm fine," she said, as she kissed me. She then pulled her cell out of her bag that she'd left in here. "I swear I'll be quick. And just think ... we'll have the memory of this forever."

As her cell dialed the Manoso home, she reached out a hand to me. She'd placed the call using speaker-mode so I wouldn't miss anything.

" _Stephanie?_ " My mother said, sounding half asleep.

"Morning, Mama Manoso. Sorry for waking you."

"That's quite alright, my dear daughter-in-law. I was just resting my eyes for a few more minutes. I wasn't really asleep. As you well know, we have a big day ahead of us."

"You don't know the half of it," I added to the conversation.

"Good morning, Carlos. By that do you mean you're not looking forward to today?"

"Oh ... he's _definitely_ looking forward to it. He meant that as much as I hate saying this ... we won't be coming over today ..." before my mother could be devastated by that news, Steph quickly finished her sentence, "my water just broke and our doctor wanted us to head on out to the hospital. Though your son is giving me the stink eye for waiting, I wanted to get in one more 'surprise' before we leave."

In true Manoso fashion, our boys decided to make a holiday arrival. Christmas Eve is as big an event as Christmas is to my family. Since my parents are traditional in certain circumstances, they and any child home, still go to Midnight Mass every year. This year though, she'll be thanking God for two new blessings sitting inside a hospital waiting room instead of on a church pew.

When my mother could speak again, we heard the tears in her voice. "Oh ... my ... God _... it's finally happening!_ My grandsons are coming!"

"Soon, Mama. We're passing the surprise torch onto you. Stephanie's being a trooper, but I'm not letting her hang out here talking until the babies start crowning, so you get to wake the rest of the family and share this particular surprise. We'll see you when you all get to the hospital."

"You take good care of our Stephanie and my grandsons," she ordered me.

"There's no alternative in my mind."

"We'll be right behind you. You know your father sleeps like the dead, so I've already started nudging him awake. Now get going."

"We're heading out the door. We love you."

"Not as much as I love you both. Drive carefully and stay safe."

Steph breathed through a contraction that hadn't waited to begin, and I could see the knowledge of what is about to happen settle on her.

"I'm scared and excited, but I really _don't_ want to spend Christmas in the hospital," she said, as I grabbed our hospital bags in one hand while putting my other arm around her.

I turned on the outside light and helped her down the snow-dusted front stairs and then into the Cayenne.

"Do you want to have the boys at home?" I asked, as I got the passenger's door for her.

" _Noooo_. But I was hoping I could convince them to hold off until at least tomorrow night to join the fun."

I waited until I was sliding behind the wheel before answering. "You're persuasive, Babe, but I don't think any amount of pleading with our babies will get them to pass up an early holiday entrance."

That had her smiling until we pulled into the hospital's lot.

"Wait ... we need to tell Julie. And we didn't call Tank or Grandma, so he can let all the guys know and Grandma can call Mary Lou and Val."

"My mother will have alerted the entire East Coast by now, _if_ she managed to get off the phone with my siblings, but we or _I_ can make personal calls when there's a lull in the activity."

Her head was already shaking. " _No_. We have to call everyone _now_. Julie and the guys especially. They've been rooting for us from the start, we can't leave them out of this."

"Steph ..."

She crossed her arms in defiance. "I'll cross my legs, too, and keep our boys in there until I feel a shift in the Rangeman force."

I read between the lines. She's terrified underneath her mostly-calm surface, and she wants all her walking security blankets within shouting distance. To make getting her into the hospital a voluntary action rather than one that requires restraints or a tranquilizer, I called Julie. It's even earlier in Florida, but getting a message from us when she wakes up will have our daughter feeling like she's part of the birth. It will also remind her that we're always thinking about her, and that she's an essential member of our family.

"Hey, Jules," Steph began our message, "your dad and I are calling to say that your baby brothers want to celebrate the holidays with us. They've finally had enough of me and want out."

"We're heading into the hospital now," I explained to her voicemail. "I'll call you as soon as we get admitted. I love you, Julie, and I can't wait to see you."

"Don't forget, I love you, too," my wife added. "We were just saying last night how much we miss you. And just so you know, my Christmas wish has been for you to visit us really soon."

Next, I got Tank on the line.

Unfortunately, instead of giving him the good news, we likely caused a heart attack. Steph couldn't find a comfortable way of sitting or breathing, and it showed.

" _Oh God_..." she said just as he answered.

I could hear him snap to attention. " _Stephanie?_ What's wrong? Where's Ranger?"

"I'm right here," I assured him. "Stephanie's water broke. We're on our way into the hospital since the contractions have already started ..."

"I wanted you, the guys, and Ella and Louis, to know," she said through clenched teeth.

"We're on our way."

I knew he said that after he'd already grabbed his keys and stepped through whatever exit he's closest to.

"You don't ha ..." she began to say, but he cut her off.

"I'm not missing my namesake's birth. The men will want to be there also. Those boys and both of you are important to every one of them. And I'm not stupid enough to tell Ella to stay home."

"I don't blame you there," she said. "Okay, we'll see you soon."

"Count on it."

Grandma Mazur answered her call on the second ring with the words ... " _Who died?_ "

"No one died, Grandma. It's actually the opposite. Now that I'm able to think about it, you're the _third_ person we've freaked out this morning. We're calling to tell you that your great-grandsons are coming soon. Ranger and I are already at the hospital."

" _Damn Skippy!_ "

"That seems to be the general mood going around. Can you let Val and Mary Lou know?"

"Of course I will." There was an uncomfortable pause. "What about your parents?"

I watched Steph shrug. "I guess you can tell them. I doubt they'll be as excited as everyone else is, though. And Ranger's family and the guys are already on their way, so I don't think they'll want to come."

"Well I sure as heck do. What should I wear?"

"Whatever's comfortable. Knowing my luck, it's going to be a long, drawn-out labor, which equals a _reeeally_ long day. The sun isn't even out yet and we're already on the move."

"You'll be okay, Babe," I promised her, when Edna hung up to 'get dressed'.

"I hope the three of us will be."

"The _five_ of us will be more than alright. I'll get you through this."

Her eyes were serious. "I'm holding you to that more than you know."

"I've always been there when you needed me, and I don't plan on stopping ... especially today."

"Okay, let's do this then," she said.

It's cold outside, only seventeen degrees, so I quickly got her and our things out of the warm car, through the arctic air, and back into a warm space. As I'd requested, our doctor met us and got Stephanie immediately into a private room. I could have made sure we received the same treatment at St. Francis, but I didn't want the birth of our babies to turn into a Burg media circus, so we agreed on a hospital closer to Newark.

Knowing my family and my men as well as I do, I'd also made arrangements for a room with an adjacent 'waiting area' to keep the chaos, noise, and excitement, relatively contained. I always require extra security no matter the situation, and my men are part of that. I didn't want them subjected to suspicious looks or insulting whispers for them pacing the length of the delivery floor. Their comfort is almost as important to me as Stephanie's.

My family is another story. I just wanted to ensure that there would be a buffer between the Manosos and every other patient. My family is loud/bordering on obnoxiously-happy when it comes to holiday celebrations. Add a double-birth to the festivities ... and astronauts currently in space will be wondering what the hell's going on back on earth.

"Don't mark me down as a bad mom for saying this," Steph told Dr. Levin, "but I want all the drugs it's safe to take. If there's a chance our boys will be hurt, or come out looking like puppies, I would suck it up and go all natural for them, but I'm not trying to be a hero here. I just want them out here with us with as little pain as possible."

"We'll see what we can do for you once we get you hooked up and checked out."

"That sounds ominous."

"Standard operating procedure," our doctor said with a kind smile.

"Ummm ... _operating_ isn't an option," my wife told her. "I've already had a chat with my boys and they agreed to curl up tightly on their way out to spare their Mama. I want to go home as quickly as possible, and getting sawed in half won't help me accomplish that."

"If those two little ones of yours can already speak in coherent sentences," Dr. Levin said, "I would have loved a hello from both during your ultrasounds."

"Yep, you're the perfect doctor for us," Steph told her, as we surveyed her room.

There's no way to cover up the fact that it's a sterile environment, but the pale circus peanut-color on one accent wall, the " _Welcome Baby_ " mylar balloons already attached to a side table a few feet from the bed, and the simulated wood floor, gave our space the feel of a good hotel room versus just a standard hospital room. What helped to achieve the illusion of 'home', is the small family room-style area where people can gather together before or after the birth, which had a large flat screen hung on the wall between two small sofas. If Steph needs a boredom-buster or pain-distracter, the TV could prove useful.

"If we didn't have multiple places to live already," Steph said to me, "I'd vote for this place. Which is saying something, since I _hate_ hospitals, never mind staying in one."

"We do our best to reverse the negative opinions people have of hospitals with top-notch care and cozy surroundings."

"It's working. If I get injured again, I'm coming here."

"That's not something to joke about, Babe."

"Sorry," she said on a wince.

"And that face and double-hand stomach grab is our cue to stop socializing and bring those boys into the world," Dr. Levin told us. "Opal is one of our most respected and requested nurses, and she'll get you settled."

"Thank you for making this whole process seem less scary," Steph told her.

"It's in the job description."

"Unfortunately, I know firsthand that it _isn't_."

I don't want to think about those firsthand accounts when she'd been in need of compassion as well as care, and instead got unwanted gossip and calls to her mother.

There are popular phrases among those who have served ... _'Hurry up and wait_ ' and ' _Embrace the suck_ '. I hate that I can't do anything to change it, but Stephanie will be getting a crash course in both here.

She got changed and hooked up to various machines that were right beside the bed to monitor her and our boys. Once she was as comfortable as she could get, our visitors were allowed to come in and offer their support.

My mother didn't say anything right away. She just walked directly to the hospital bed and hugged Stephanie tight to her.

When she finally got herself and her emotions under control, Steph's eyes began to fill.

"Don't you cry, Babe. I'm having a hard enough time watching you doubled over in pain, if you start crying ... they might have to sedate me."

She dabbed at her eyes with the collar of her hospital gown. "For such a tough guy, you have a really low-tolerance for a lot of stuff."

"Only the 'stuff' that involves you hurting."

"Nice try, but I _am_ really happy even though this hurts like hell."

"Just picture those two little faces looking back at you, and it will help with the pain," my mother advised.

"Don't let her bamboozle you, Stephanie," my father added. "My dear, sweet, even-tempered, wife cursed for an hour straight with Celia."

Steph looked at her mother-in-law with a newfound respect. " _Really?_ "

"It was all for affect, my dear Stephanie. I had the pain under control, but I certainly didn't want My Maurice knowing that. He changed almost every one of Celia's diapers for the first month of her life."

My wife cut her eyes to me. "We're having _two_ babies, Steph. We'll _both_ be too busy with diapers to keep track of who did more."

"Oh, I do love you, Carlos," my Mama said, kissing my cheek. "Edna and Ella want to come wish you luck. Your parents haven't arrived yet, but we're prepared for when they do. _No one_ is allowed to upset our new Mama."

"Big surprise that they're no-shows," I said, not being able to hide my contempt.

"It's okay, Ranger," Steph told me.

"No. It's _far_ from okay."

"I get that. I really do, but not having to worry about what they're doing, or who they're offending, will make this a lot easier on me. So you just focus on that, while I do what your mom said and picture the squishy little faces of our boys to get through this."

" _Squishy_ faces?" I asked.

"Yes. Don't knock the image I have going in my head. I want them to have round, squishy, little cheeks that you can't resist kissing when you get near them."

"I dare you to resist smothering them in kisses regardless," my mother told her. "Trust me on this one, it's hard just letting them sleep, because you want to hold and cuddle them all the time."

"I'd like to say she's exaggerating, but I had to drag her out of the nursery more than a few times," my father shared, "so Celia, and every one of you after her, could have a moment to yourselves."

"That won't work for us," I said. "Steph has a mean right hook. Moving her is next to impossible when she's against the idea."

"Yeah, right. You just give your muscles a workout and pick me up, and then you carry me to/put me wherever you want me, like you wanted to do on Thanksgiving."

"But I didn't."

"You _would have_ in a heartbeat if I even thought about falling."

My eyes and arm hadn't come off her once during that short walk from our house to theirs. Falling, or just slipping, wasn't an option.

My parents gave us indulgent smiles before my mother spoke. "We'll leave you to enjoy and absorb this special moment in your lives. I just wanted to see for myself that you were alright. My children say I worry too much, but every one of them sitting or standing next door wanted us to tell you that they're pulling for you."

"Technically, our precocious children said that they are ' _pushing_ ' for you," my father clarified.

"Oh good. I'm going to need all the help I can get. I'm a little scared that something could go wrong, but we're both ready for this," Steph calmly assured them before my mother would even think of leaving us to go back to chaperoning the waiting room party.

"This is so exciting," Ella said, as she came in to see us. "I promise I won't stay long, but I had to let you both know that Louis and I, along with every man working today, are positively _vibrating_ with excitement."

Stephanie is doing her best to put on a brave face, but she's feeling every labor pain. "My body's doing something, too, but it's contracting ... not so much vibrating."

"Funny, Babe."

"I can either laugh or cry. I thought I had a pretty high threshold for pain, but I'm clearly wrong, because this hurts ... _a lot_."

I want to take away all of her pain, from labor to the one caused by her parents, but I felt helpless to do more than just hold her hand and ineffectually push the curls off her damp forehead. Ella and Edna had come in with faces more flushed than Stephanie's currently is. Ella's was the result of sheer happiness, Edna's was due to total frustration and more than a little anger.

"I don't know what the dickens I did wrong with that one, but whatever it is, it gave your mother not _a stick_ up her patooty, but one of them giant redwood trees."

Ella tried to unhear that, not being one to think ill of anyone. Though the way the Plums have treated Stephanie, does have her feeling intense disapproval whenever their names or bodies pop up. Stephanie and I just smiled wide at Grandma Mazur's words.

"I could've told you that," my wife said to Edna. "But I don't think _you_ caused it."

"She gave me a load of pig pucky about how you'll be in labor for hours so they have time to get here. Who the heck cares how long it takes? Grandkids only get born once. Plus, those Manosos sure know how to party. I was so caught up in the moment, I blurted that out, which made things worse. At the mention of your in-laws, her face sucked into itself. The Queen of Polite Prattle, ain't interested in living up to the title today."

"Honestly, I'm relieved she isn't," Steph told us. "I didn't want to put you and Val in an awkward position, so I said it was okay to tell them I was here, but I feel better that they aren't. I'm scared enough as it is, I don't want anymore stress right now. I need Ranger's attention on me only. If they were here, he'd be trying to shield me from them as I'm trying to protect him from their comments, so our focus would be split. I'm surprised, though, that she didn't automatically blame last minute directions, the snow, possible icy roads, or the Buick, for not venturing out. She's slipping in the excuse department."

" _You_ may be relieved about this, but I'm so mad I could spit staples," Edna said. "Good thing whatever got her bloomers in a permanent bunch, skipped a generation. As soon as Valerie gets Albert and the girls off to his parents' place, she's coming straight here. Meanwhile, I'm parking my bones next door where the food and hot men are."

" _Behave_ ," Steph warned her. "I can't exactly get up and hurry out to defend the honor of my guys."

"I'm gonna be good. I'm not risking being escorted off a floor full of Range Men again. Ella, here, looks innocent enough, but she's _tough_."

"That's why I hired her," I added. "She has well-developed protective instincts and she's not afraid to act on them."

"Ella and I made frosted gingerbread cookie bars in her apartment for the monitor guys I'd been flirting with as penance for bugging them."

"So _that's_ why the guys got surprise snacks that I didn't," my wife said.

"Afterwards, every man came over to me and said that they appreciated the thought as well as the food," Ella informed us.

"Now," Edna began, "if your stud-husband needs someone standing shotgun to help get you through this, you just shout ' _Grandma!'_ as loud as you can, and I'll tackle everybody out there to get back in here."

"We're okay, but thank you for the offer, Grandma. I'll hold up under this torture just to keep everyone outside this room injury-free."

Ella squeezed Steph's hand in an affectionate way and mine right after. Then she rejoined the party as co-hostess until it was time to head back to Trenton to get started on lunch for the men.

Edna leaned over Steph's hospital bed and gave her a rare peck on the forehead. The plum-colored print dress and low-heeled black pumps she's wearing, I recognized as a popular church outfit of hers, so at least Edna and Valerie are showing Stephanie that she and our children are important.

"You're more like me than you think, you'll kick labor's behind," Edna told her. "Remember, I'm old and could keel over at any minute, so concentrate and get busy getting my great-grandbabies here."

"I don't think you can give birth on-demand unless a c-section is involved, but I'll give it the 'ol Mazur try."

"Atta girl," she was told.

And then we were left alone with only the plentiful hospital staff. Tank wouldn't want to intrude on this time, but I can feel him on the other side of our door. Bobby, Lester, and Cal, are likely not far from him, guarding us and our room as the only way to offer assistance, since childbirth isn't something they can order to stop, go, or die. They're currently out of their element and aren't the least bit comfortable with that knowledge.

No doubt Brown and Santos are busting Cal's balls for what happened the last time he attended a Plum woman's birth. I already know he won't be walking into this room until our boys are out, cleaned of any and _all_ amniotic fluid, and are completely clothed, preferably swaddled just to prevent any mishaps.

"So we've got a loving/fun/and sentimental grandma covered with your mom. A caring/responsible one with Ella. And a uniquely crazy one with Grandma Mazur. Not to mention, sophisticated/worldly/and patient grandmothers with both of yours. Our boys are all set on the family front," Steph said to me, when she could breathe again. "Especially if we add in all the rest of the Manosos, too."

Helen has left a lot to be desired when it comes to being a mother, but not only are our boys set when it comes to love and good influences, Stephanie has the absolute best when it comes to mother figures anxiously wanting to step in and do everything for her that her parents should have.

"What's going on out there?" Stephanie asked at hour twelve, when I'd stepped briefly out to give everyone an update as I called Julie.

"Tell Steph I love her and to stop listening to the doctors and push already. This waiting is hard," Julie had said.

"It is," I'd agreed. "But it makes the reward that much sweeter. I had to wait twenty-two hours to see your face and I still remember every detail of it. And it has only become more beautiful since I first laid eyes on it."

"I love you, too, Dad. Call me again _soon_."

"I will. As soon as something changes."

I'd paused walking back into our room. Steph's tired, in pain, but soldiering on despite the discomfort. She doesn't really have a choice this far along unless something goes wrong, but I believe one thing she's learned from me is that you can manage your pain to a degree with the right attitude. Hers tends to veer more towards distraction to get herself through difficult times or situations, rather than my ' _Rangers lead the way_ ' take on life and the challenges it shoots at you. If I break, my men will too, so I have to show no fear and admit no pain for the sake and safety of others.

That being said, I'd rather go another round with Russian torturers than endure labor. Steph has my respect for not only withstanding childbirth, but also for not going for my gun to shoot me or the next medical professional that touched her or something attached to her body. Given her past reactions when in stressful and painful situations, it's miraculous that she's still making conversation between contractions beyond issuing threats that she'd call promises.

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you," I replied, resuming my place right beside her.

"Grandma wasn't kidding, was she? Your mom did turn the waiting room into party central, right?"

"I guess that means you _would_ believe me. As hard as it is to picture, there is more food than men next door and Christmas carols have been playing on a loop since they got here."

Her face contorted in pain and I helped her breathe through it. She then zeroed in on anything she thought would get her mind off what her body is feeling. Medication took the edge off, but she clearly felt every change, twinge, and pull, on her body. I made a mental note to remember every second of these births, because it's likely the last time she'll willing go through it.

"Oh ... that one really hurt," Steph whispered.

"I'm sorry, Babe."

"As much as I'd like to blame someone for this, I can't. _I'm_ the one who wanted a baby with you. Apparently Karma doesn't miss much when it comes to me. Help me out here by doing that calm-talking thing you do whenever I'm stuck in a hospital and am terrified. What song was playing when you were next door?"

" _Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas_ was finishing when I got off the phone with Julie. She told me to tell you that she loves you, and also tell you to defy doctor's orders and push."

"I really love that girl ... and not just because she's part of you."

"I know. What's even better is she knows it, too. ' _My Grown Up Christmas List_ ' was just starting when I turned to come back in here."

"Those aren't the cheeriest songs to set the mood for the birth of _our_ newborn kings, but they're good ones nonetheless. Is it a typical Manoso party? Or did your parents restrain themselves because they're in a hospital?"

I didn't have to say anything. My staring at her as she breathed was answer enough.

" _Of course_ they went all out," she stated. "This place must have used some Rangeman-quality insulation for me not to hear anything."

"You're a little too busy to pay attention to playlists. All the prepared appetizers, snacks, and desserts, were packed up by my parents and the siblings who live closest to them. The food was brought here and carried in by whichever Range Man passed them in the visitor's lot. I'm going to owe the hospital a six-figure donation after this."

Another contraction hit and my hand took one for the team as Steph all but crushed it in a grip that could single-handedly turn a piece of Christmas coal into a diamond.

"Oh shit, this part sucks big time," she all but whimpered.

"It'll be over soon, Steph."

"Promise?"

I went quiet. I have a lot of 'superpowers' according to her, but predicting the duration of a twin delivery I'm not as skilled in.

"Okay, I get you can't promise me that," she told me, "it's up to our babies and my uterus. So help me get my mind off this. What food survived your parents' mad dash here?"

"Are you sure you want a list of food people - who aren't _you_ \- are currently enjoying while you're in here in pain?"

The layer of sweat coating her face, and the wild curls sticking to it, didn't take any of the beauty away from her smile.

"I get two little yous if I survive this ... all they'll have at the end of the 'party' is a stomach ache. At least my aches are for something greater than a carb fix."

I leaned down to her flushed face and kissed her. "I love you, Babe. And you will survive this. That I will, and _can_ , promise you."

"Oh ... will you listen to that. Not only is your husband handsome," Nurse Opal told Steph, "he's also sweet. You hold onto this one, honey."

"I plan to ... with a death grip. In our prenup, I stated if he wants a divorce I get dibs on _him_."

"We don't have a prenup," I said to them.

I'd recommend them without hesitation to three-quarters of the people and clients I've met, but I never once considered having one drawn up for Stephanie, mainly because my request would be similar to hers. The only thing I need in order to live comfortably is her.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you're kind of sucking as a Lamaze coach. I've got the breathing thing down, but my mind needs some help. I'm hurting and I _still_ don't know what they're all eating out there. Start talking and _fast_."

"I'm covering my ears," Opal told us. "I've gained five pounds just walking by that room. I don't need twenty more added by hearing a list of what I haven't been able to try yet. Rest assured, your family has won the hearts of the entire delivery floor. Your care will _exceed_ excellent."

Steph laughed. "There's no stopping Mama Manoso when it comes to sharing something she's worked hard on."

"I am surprised we were able to wake her," I said. "I'd bet she was up half the night making the edible residents of her North Pole park and petting zoo."

Opal raised her hands. "I'm going before he starts. I'll be back with the doctor. I've been at this for close to thirty years, and I'd say we're nearing the finish line."

"I just wish that finish line wasn't below my equator. This would suck less if we could just pick our boys up at a checkered flag somewhere."

Our nurse laughed and squeezed Steph's foot with instant affection. "I'll be right back."

"Now you can get to the snacks. As you've likely figured out, I'm starting to get really nervous again."

" _Don't_ ... you've always been stronger than you think you are. But because your mother-in-law will be floating for weeks to learn our labor and delivery talk was centered around her food, I'll indulge you both. There are green spinach wrap feta and cranberry pinwheels stacked in decreasing circles to form a tree. There's an actual 'Christmas' tree made from toothpick-stuck olives, rosemary/pecan cheese 'truffles', which to me are just mini-cheese balls sitting on crackers. Elias' favorite are the deviled eggs made to look like Santa, and yet another Christmas tree-shape created from pull-apart herbed butter rolls. Pesto-stuffed cherry tomatoes, spinach balls, and turkey meatballs with cranberry dipping sauce, are there to mimic ornaments for the health conscious. Other options are, black olive penguins with sliced-carrot feet, and white cheddar triangles made into reindeers using pimento-stuffed olive slices for noses and pretzel antlers."

She was going to comment, but I still wasn't finished. "She'd hate for me not to mention the powdered sugar doughnut snowmen and chocolate doughnut reindeers made in honor of your doughnut-habit. Tank and Lester have just about polished off the 'Grinchmas' Popcorn that was brought. They claim they're sorry and that they'll make it up to you once you're 'sprung from here'."

"They'd better. And the desserts? No way would your mom forget the best part."

"She didn't. There's a choice of Baklava cups, eggnog dip with gingerbread cookies, or a three-layer red velvet cake. She made a chocolate torte just for you that she purposely left in her kitchen so you'd be able to have it when you get home. She's calling it a birthday cake for the boys as well as your cake. There's also pecan pie cheesecake and a caramel apple pie. Plus, green meringue cookies piped to resemble trees, and also unfussy colored sugar-sprinkled sugar cookies that are the complete opposites of the ones she painstakingly made for Veterans Day for my men. Everything is a labor of love for her, but the motivation behind her food varies."

"Wow. I know that's not even counting what she was planning to make for Christmas Eve dinner and her Christmas party."

"Her 'guests' _are_ in the right place. They'll only have to be wheeled downstairs when their arteries clog or stomachs burst."

"There's something to wash all that stuff down with, I bet."

"Two spigoted glass Christmas trees containing cranberry/pomegranate punch and a bright green margarita punch, both non-alcoholic. Plus, Ella's 42-cup coffee urn filled with strong coffee."

"She really had all that stuff already made before we called?" She asked, not quite believing it.

"Except for the coffee. My mother leaves nothing to chance. One of the coffee tables out there is now supporting a savory 'gingerbread' house instead of holding magazines."

"Boys," she said to her stomach, "simmer down in there for a sec. Give your parents a couple more minutes to talk, because I really want to hear how your Grandma managed to build a salty house instead of a sweet one."

"It's a hollowed out bread loaf filled with a similar-shaped container holding 'ranch crack' dip. It has breadstick logs to form the cabin and a cracker and pepperoni roof, with a cheese-block chimney. There's a bet going on that I'm not supposed to know about, on who's going to be the one to give the cabin a sunroof, Sybo or Woody."

"Does the place have pretzel windows?" She asked, closing her eyes in pain or to visualize the food/decoration better.

"How did you know?"

She smiled. "Your Mom has expanded my culinary horizons and has me seeing decoration possibilities in pretty much every food item. If she's done that for me, can you imagine how amazing a grandmother she's going to be to our boys?"

"I don't have to imagine it," I shared. "I've seen it firsthand with Julie. On the Christmases we were able to have Julie visit, my mother didn't just help her make cookies for Santa. The two of them also made powdered sugar, cinnamon sugar, and sprinkle-covered chocolate frosted, 'doughnuts' for Santa's tiny elves using Cheerios. With my dad's guidance, they also sprinkled 'Magic Reindeer Food', which is called trail mix in non-holiday times, for Rudolph and his friends. They'd hand-sprinkle a generous path from the corner of the house closest to the chimney, across a section of yard, and right up to the front door. The squirrels and birds were happier on Christmas than any reindeer, but we still made a card for Julie from 'Rudolph', thanking her for thinking of something other than presents."

"That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard."

"Just the fact that a three-year-old Julie was concerned that Santa's helpers could be hungry from their trek across the globe, had my parents and I set on easing her mind, while giving her an example of how good it feels to think about - and help - others. Julie continued the elf and reindeer traditions with her siblings."

"Like she'll do with our boys."

"Knowing her, yes."

"Our kids are lucky."

"They are ... to have you for a mother as well as mine for a grand one."

The contractions were coming much closer together. Following another dilation check, after what felt like three days - not eighteen hours from the time we cleared the hospital doors - we heard the words we've been waiting for.

"Alright Almost-Mommy Stephanie, get ready to start pushing," Dr. Levin told us, bringing reinforcements in with her so both babies could be cleaned, checked, and tested, immediately after each birth.

"Oh ... thank God," Steph whispered, completely exhausted and losing energy fast. "Give me your hand, Ranger."

I did as requested and kept my other hand on her bare leg so she'd know I'm with her while trying to soothe her with my touch. I doubt she felt it with the epidural she'd had, but the contact made _me_ feel better. Nurse Opal manned her other leg, deciding a person was better than equipment when Steph's eyes went wide at just the sight of stirrups. Dr. Levin took point, not looking up until one baby's head was coming into view.

"Bear down, Babe," I urged. "Squeeze my hand in time with your push and our baby will be here."

"Yeah, after he links arms with his brother and takes him and my uterus with him. I can tell you right now that he's not balling up to make himself smaller and this easier. He's doing what Tank says his cats do when they don't want to come out of their carriers at the vets. Our son has that death grip I'd mentioned earlier on the sides of 'the doorway', refusing to come out," she told me, but she did do as I suggested.

I stopped breathing as she fought through the pain to push our babies out. The joints in my fingers and hand will never be the same, but one squirming body emerged completely and was quickly placed on Steph's stomach as he got an immediate rubdown and some nose/mouth suction to clear his airways.

It's safe to say that Steph and I are hovering in a state of shock. It's one thing to talk about our boys, but it's an entirely different experience to see one of them right in front of us.

He showed he has Steph's lungs as he cried at the top of them, like he'd just been yanked out in the middle of a conversation with his brother, and he wasn't pleased about the interruption. Though he's smaller than Julie had been when she was born, he's absolutely perfect.

"We did good. He's incredible," Steph said, touching the dark hair on our baby's head as if she's afraid to discover that this had been a dream and he isn't real.

"He is incredible and so are you," I told her, doing the same thing she'd done, not being able to keep myself from touching him so _I'd_ know he's real.

We stared at him, completely transfixed as he opened and closed his eyes and mouth while clenching his tiny hands into defiant fists.

I wasn't very aware of my surroundings tonight. The doctor had to remind us that Steph isn't done yet.

"We have one baby to go, Babe," I told her, after I was prodded into action.

Tears were streaming down her face at this point. I'm telling myself that they are eighty-percent happy tears and only ten due to pain and exhaustion so I'd be able to look at her without crying myself.

"Shit, I sorta forgot that we're only half-done. I got distracted ... look how perfect our baby is. He really is a little you, and I made him."

"You did. I'm so proud of you, and I love you both," I said, cutting the cord and making him officially part of our world.

"Finally, there's something I can do well that you can't."

"I would've tapped out in month two of pregnancy, or hour two of labor," I teased.

"Yeah right, Batman," she said smiling.

She kissed our son before he was moved to get an exam to make sure he's as healthy as he appears. Then Steph gritted her teeth, dug in her heels, and brought our second Manoso marvel into the room. By the time I cut the second cord, she'd given up on wiping her eyes. Her face stayed damp from perspiration and tears until both babies were back with us ... swaddled, braceleted, and wearing little caps to keep the chill of them and to keep their body heat from escaping.

"Did we really just do this?" She asked me, but she continued to stare into the eyes of one of our Christmas Eve miracles.

"No, _you_ did it."

"I did, didn't I?"

I could barely take my eyes off the three of them as I sat on the bed beside her. The little bundle in my arms got my attention when his mouth opened and closed twice, while making soft mew-like noises, as if he was trying to add something to the conversation.

"So which one is Trey and which is Jamie?" She asked me.

We each glanced down at the baby in our arms, and then immediately over at the twin the other was cradling.

" _I'm holding Trey_ ," I said at the same time she declared ... " _I definitely have Jamie_."

"Looks like that settles that," I told her. "We agreed without even needing to discuss it first."

I'd swear on my grandmother's Bible that our boys were looking at us like they aren't sure what they just got themselves into here. Steph shifted her upper body slightly so both boys would be able to reach their hands out to touch the other's as they've been doing since they came out, having endured that short separation for their individual births.

"Jamie Marceno Manoso, meet your big brother Trey Cameron Manoso. Oh ... and we're your Mama and Daddy in case you didn't know."

The way their eyes shifted immediately in her direction whenever she spoke, made it clear that they know exactly who she is without even looking. Not taking their fingers out of their mouth or touching the other with their free ones, they'd always turn their heads towards her. They also seem to recognize my voice, as Steph was quick to point out.

A polite knock sounded on our door and my parents poked their heads into our room. "We know we should give you more time together, but I just couldn't wait to see them and check on both of you," now _Grand_ Mama Manoso said.

"Come on in. And Merry Christmas," Steph told them, "since it is after midnight now. Not only can you both come in and see all of us, you can bring anyone who can fit in here. I don't know how long our boys will be awake, and I really want them to see their family first thing Christmas morning. I may conk out right after them, so now's good."

I was expecting Tank, Edna, Val, and my family, to join us, but every Range Man who was in the building crammed into our room to get a look at their new nephews.

"Oh, Stephanie, they are such beautiful boys," my mother said, a sentiment that was repeated with every person who was fortunate enough to make it bedside.

They are beautiful and incredible little boys. The hair they do have is dark, silky, and as straight as mine. Their skin is so soft, no one could stop touching their faces or miniature hands. It was an interesting contrast to see that Hal's splayed hand is almost the length of either twin's body. I knew from experience with Julie that our babies' skin will darken to a tone ranging anywhere from their Mama's creamy complexion to my own. Another fact of our new family that will likely thrill the Plums.

My brother had a different thought on seeing his nephews. "Looks like they weren't born the size of dump trucks after all. They're closer to a Prius. Or would that be Pri-i, since there's two of them?"

"You just said it, there's _two_ of them," Celia pointed out. "They were going to start off smaller."

"Since it's been brought up, here are our babies' stats," Steph said to everyone. "Ranger's holding Trey, and I've got Jamie. As you probably already know, Trey was born twenty-two minutes before Jamie, so we've got two Christmas Eve babies born at 11:34 and 11:56 PM. Trey weighs 5.10 pounds and is nineteen inches long. Jamie's clocking in at 5.8 pounds and is eighteen inches from stem to stern."

"Ophelia and Amalia were a little smaller than that," my father told us.

"They're a lot bigger than that now," my little brother said, which got him a double-shove from his twin bookends.

"I'm starting to think our boys were more active inside me than out," Steph said to us, noticing how quiet they've become. "This past month alone, I'd swear under oath that they were taking turns doing jumping jacks on my bladder, and now they're chilling as if they'd just left a spa weekend."

They are looking at her more than kicking her, so I can see why she'd say that.

"Getting born is exhausting, Babe."

"You don't have to tell me twice. For those of you who didn't get to hold them yet," Steph said to the room, "the rumors are true in this case. They _are_ identical twins ... with the exception of their eyes. Trey has Manoso brown, Jamie has Plum blue ... unless they change, which I really hope they don't. I want them to always have each other, yet be their own people at the same time."

"I will say ... that one difference took a load off my mind," Valerie admitted. "I was worried about being a bad aunt for not knowing which nephew I'm talking to."

"Mazur genes are hard to beat," Grandma Mazur stated with a cocky smile. "They'll stay blue."

"I don't know ... that Manoso DNA is potent stuff," Mary Lou said, looking like she's already falling in love with our boys. "Julie's the spitting image of Ranger."

My sisters and Valerie weren't far behind in the falling in love department. Everybody wanted their chance to hold the newest members of our family, but I noticed that Stephanie appeared anxious when they were away from her for too long. When her yawns mirrored the ones of our boys, everyone started to file out until it was just Tank left in the room with us. He had hesitated before leaving.

"You can hold both at once if you think you're strong enough to. I mean, it's possible that all those muscles are just for show," Steph teased him. "Listen up, Boys, this special guy with us is Uncle Tank. He's going to help us take really good care of you ... like he's taken excellent care of your Daddy. So please don't spit up or pee on him, okay?"

They each waved an arm or two, yet they didn't agree. But they also didn't do anything except stare sleepily up at him from the crook of each of his arms. There's no question that he's strong enough to hold both. I'd say it took far more strength for him to return them to us and actually go home and get some sleep. None of the people in our lives wanted to leave, but they all realized that this time alone is important for us. Steph and I stayed in the bed together, watching our boys fall asleep for the first time.

Thankfully, there were no complications for Mama or babies, but Stephanie and the twins weren't going to be released in time to make the Manoso Christmas party, or 'gift palooza' as Ophelia refers to it. So as a surprise/not-so-surprise, the Manosos brought the party back to the hospital on Christmas morning as soon as the sun was poking through the clouds. No one has had more than four hours of sleep due to the past night/morning's activity, but they were all smiles ... promising that we'd have their properly-planned Christmas celebration when Steph, the boys, and I, were all back home.

To send an exhausted Stephanie deep into hormone territory, when my family had come back a few hours later on Christmas morning, they - with Tank's help - decorated our hospital room with multicolored lit garlands for around the doors and window. Matching lit evergreen wreaths were hung on the room and bathroom doors. Plus glass apothecary jars filled with green and silver, and red and gold, ornaments and battery-operated lights tucked in-between the paper-thin ornaments, were scattered around the room to add an instant festive feel to the otherwise sterile space. While I was holding Jamie and Steph was cuddling Trey, we were both stunned silent when my father walked into our hospital room holding the Manoso family egg tree in his hands.

Steph's mouth made an 'O' shape, unknowingly mimicking Trey's current expression. "You brought the tree to us?" She asked my mother, whose smile had reached glowing-Grandma status.

"Yes we did," she told us. "It's Christmas and you need a tree for your room. However, this day really is far too special for just a typical Christmas tree. The four of you deserve something a bit more _memorable_ this year."

Memorable it was. When she came with Valerie and Steph's nieces a little while after my parents arrival on Christmas Day, Grandma Mazur - not wanting to be outdone by our decorating crew - brought a present for each of the boys, even though clothes for them beyond what the hospital provides aren't necessary just yet. Jamie's tiny outfit from his great-grandmother included pants that are striped like a candy cane and a long sleeved, white onesie that had a large candy cane leaning against the words " _Mama and Daddy's Most Precious Present_ " written in Christmas red. The set came complete with a matching red and white striped hat to cover his small crop of black hair.

Trey didn't escape the holiday adornment. His small cotton sweatpants were black with a racing stripe of red running down the sides of them. A red present was sewn into one knee, and a green gift was added to the left one, giving the appearance of being built-in holiday knee pads in case protection from a present-crawl was needed. His onesie is black and stated in the same red writing as on Jamie's shirt ... " _Daddy and Mommy's Favorite Gift_ ". His wispy dark hair would also be covered with a soft hat that matched the pattern on his pants, the base being all black with tiny red and green presents covering it.

Edna had every Manoso female squealing when she also produced two winter coveralls for our boys for their impending ride home, made from fabric similar to the material used to make stuffed animals. One animal-friendly suit is white and sewn to look like a sheep, with ears on the hood and 'wool' covering the body and feet so he'd be completely covered and would stay warm. The second suit is an extremely pale brown and would turn one of our boys into a living teddy bear as soon as it's put on him ... again with ears attached to the hood and fur paws to cover the ten tiny fingers and toes.

"If you want to keep these two delicious little creatures," Celia warned, "you may not want to put those animal suits on them until I've left the room, or I _will_ be stopped at the entrance for trying to smuggle them out of here so I can keep them."

"You're planning to leave the room?" I asked, seeing her words for the bluff they were.

My family has been camped out almost around the clock since Steph called my mother to tell her it 'was time'. Helen and Frank did make an appearance after church, but left in under ten minutes ... when my grandparents arrived with what Stephanie considers a traditional after-church breakfast, jelly doughnuts. My Grandma Rosa adds a vanilla custard to her jelly doughnut recipe which topped Tasty Pastry's.

"Nope," Celia answered. "You're stuck with me until you're back home and I decide that you know what you're doing with them. I admit, you were great with our Jujube Julie, but there's _two_ this time."

Her teasing was softened as I watched her hug Trey to her with one arm while giving me a quick half-squeeze with the other.

To cap off a pretty exciting Christmas, we wanted to include Julie in it beyond a phone call telling her that she's a big sister all over again. So after temporarily stringing the egg tree with mini colored lights, we took the decorated gift boxes printed bottom-to-top with Christmas village scenes that Edna had given her Christmas clothes for the boys in, and we placed the two boxes under the tree, directly beneath the eggs containing Julie, Trey, and Jamie's, names. That's what finally cracked Tatty and actually made her cry _'a_ s _true art is supposed to_ ' she'd said. Steph and I then carefully laid the boys on red plaid baby blankets inside their own gift box ... each dressed in their special Christmas gift/present outfit from Edna.

A six-minute video of her baby brothers' first Christmas, along with 'Merry Christmas, I/we love you' comments from her family here, was sent to our daughter with the words ..." _Merry Christmas to our favorite big sister. We just got here ... and we already love you, Julie. Love you always, Trey and Jamie."_


	12. Chapter 12

**All familiar characters and events belong to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone. I can't believe this story is already a year old, but I thank you for supporting my efforts in keeping the Manoso celebrations going. I'm wishing everyone a happy and safe new year.**

"Where are they?" Julie asked Steph, as she rushed into our house after I unlocked and opened the door for her.

"Your Uncles - both _Manoso_ and _Range_ \- are in the nursery," Steph informed her.

The sigh was dramatic, but filled with humor. "I meant ... where are my _baby brothers,_ Steph?"

"I know what you meant, and strangely enough it's the same answer. Trey and Jamie are with your Uncles ... in the nursery. I'm only down here because I heard the car pull into the driveway. Plus, there wasn't much room for another body up there. They'll make some for _you_ , though."

Julie glanced at me. "Go ahead," I told her. "They've been here since I left for the airport. They've had plenty of time with the boys."

"They'll beg to differ," my wife told me.

"For Julie they won't."

"True. Go on up. We've been telling your brothers all about you ... how smart, talented, sweet, and beautiful, you are ... and how much you love them both. Combine that with the facetiming we've been doing, and they're going to go nuts when they hear and see you in person," my wife told our daughter.

"They're not even a full week old, Steph. They only know _you_ and _Dad_."

"Hey, you're forgetting that our babies have those incredibly brilliant Manoso genes of yours, they'll recognize you."

A doubtful shrug was the answer we received, but Julie's impatience got the better of her and she took off for the stairs after giving Steph a quick but thorough hug. I got an ' _I'm glad you're back home with me_ ' kiss from my wife before we followed our daughter, hearing a resounding " _Julie!_ " when the men saw her standing in the doorway.

"Hi, everyone. Dad and I are back ..."

"And now you want to hold the little dudes," Santos interrupted, not having it be a question.

"Yeah. It feels like I've been waiting _forever_."

"Which one do you want?" My brother asked his niece. "Your Dad and Steph were nice enough to give us a choice by providing _two_ babies."

"I'm not playing favorites," she said. "I want both."

"You may not be biologically Steph's, but you're like her twin in a lot of ways."

"Thank you," was my daughter's reply. "Steph's cool."

"And _thank you_ ," my wife repeated. "I do what I can ... like giving our family two little ones for your cuddling pleasure."

"Are Jamie's eyes still blue?" Julie asked us.

"They were when I left early this morning to get you," I answered.

"And they still are," my wife added, "unless your Uncles sucked all the color out of them by now. They've been staring adoringly down, up, and sideways, at your brothers since they woke up. Your Dad was worried I'd need help, when the babies would outnumber parents while he flew down to rescue you from all that sunshine and warm weather. With one call, the baby-watching backup you see before you, arrived en masse. I think I was doing okay, but I'll admit ... everything is easier with six extra hands ready to help."

"We're glad to do it," Bobby said to the baby in his arms.

Julie's going to have her work cut out for her, getting either brother away from their Uncles. My own brother's words proved it.

"Hey, Jules, if you can guess which little bro I'm holding, I'll give him up without too much of a fight," Elias told his niece.

"Very funny, Uncle E."

His arm tightened gently around his nephew as he turned back towards the moon painted on the wall above one crib.

"Alright," he goaded, "if you don't wanna hold him ..."

Julie's second sigh sounding only ten minutes into her visit, had Steph smiling wide as she slid her arms around me. "I think your Uncle E. is serious, Jules. But don't worry, we're here for you. Your Dad has ways of making him let go. There seems to be pressure points for that specific purpose. And I'm the one who changed the boys, so I know which of my babies is wearing the puppy pjs and who's in the dinosaur ones. I'm totally fine with cheating in this case."

"It's okay, Steph. I've got this," our daughter bragged. "Uncle Elias is holding Trey."

The room went quiet. "How'd you know?" He asked. "You didn't see the eyes of either twin."

"I _may_ have looked at the pictures of them a lot the last few days. Trey's patch of hair is thicker on his _left_ side, Jamie's is fuller on the _right_ side."

"Yeah, we've noticed that," Steph agreed. "When they get their baths, your Dad or I, or both, have to triple rinse those mirroring spots to make sure all the shampoo's out."

"See ... I know my baby brothers, even if I haven't technically seen them until today."

"You've got your Dad's scary detail-oriented memory," Steph told her.

"I do," she said so proudly, my breathing was affected. "So I get to hold both. I'll even sit down to do it if I have to."

"You heard her, boys big and small," Steph told the nursery occupants, "someone has to vacate a rocker so Julie can bond with her brothers."

Santos got up and gestured with dramatic flourish to the now empty modern rocker. It's one of the set of two chairs Steph loves because they're essentially upholstered arm chairs on rocking stands. We've had discussions about switching out a chair in our living room for a third one of these ever since the rockers were delivered.

I never pictured myself with a life like this one ... having a wife who has me thanking God hourly for sparing me all of the times I've tested his and luck's limits. And now being fortunate in having three kids to love, raise right, and give back to the world. I've taken more lives than anyone except I will ever know, but I've been able to create new ones who are - and will be - positive lights in place of the evil souls I've eliminated.

"Look at that, Julie," Steph said to her. "Both boys stayed awake just to see you."

Our daughter, with Bobby and Elias' help, had the boys on her lap, each lying along the length of her upper leg. It's been a little less than a week since they were born, but their personalities are already showing differences. Jamie has spent the majority of his time sleeping, eating, and making conversational sounds to everyone. Trey - according to Steph - has inherited my quieter nature and also my need to be alert and aware of what's going on around me at all times, so he's been sleeping only when he feels it's required.

"They're so little," Julie said to everyone in the room.

"They may look little, but they didn't _feel_ small _at all_ when they were born."

"Way to make a conversation uncomfortable, Steph," Santos told her.

"Jesus ... you just gave her the perfect lead-in to go into even more labor details, and how 'uncomfortable' it is," Bobby whined, shoving him slightly.

"Don't worry, I won't say anything more about it. I wouldn't want to scar Jules in case she wants kids one day."

Every man in the room was shaking his head. "I'm positive that there's no one out there good enough for _my_ niece," Elias said, "so dating's not happening, which will make having kids more challenging. Though, I guess adoption's an option."

All the male heads changed direction. Collectively, they nodded in agreement.

"Not only will any boy interested in you have to survive your Dad, he'll have to get through all of us right after. Not to mention, you have two new brothers who'll be looking out for you too," Santos pointed out.

"They're my _little_ brothers, Uncle Lester," Julie reminded him.

"Doesn't matter," Bobby argued. "They're going to be protecting you no matter how much older than them you are."

"Yup," Steph agreed, "your Aunt Celia is older than both your Dad and Uncle, and you see how they react when they think someone is messing with her."

We all watched the ' _Oh shit_ ' expression form on her face before she leaned closer to her brothers, not at all concerned about the four arms that fly out at random times, threatening any eye, nose, or mouth, in their immediate vicinity.

"Okay, little brothers," she said to Jamie and Trey, acknowledging each one with a kiss to both wrinkled foreheads, "I can take care of myself. You don't have to worry about me. It's _my_ job to protect you, _not_ the other way around."

"Nice try," Steph told her, "but I've given similar speeches to every guy here, and at least twenty back in Trenton, and look who came running just at the thought I could be overwhelmed with two babies without your Dad's help."

"We knew you could handle them," Elias said to her, "but I figured you were already missing my company, so I stopped here for a few hours before heading over to our parents' house."

"Ditto," Bobby said and Lester seconded. "Minus the mention of the parents' place."

"You _will_ be joining us later on today for our after-Christmas dinner, so you _could_ have used the same excuse as Elias, but I _do_ enjoy all of your company," Steph told them. "Which is why you are all staying for lunch. Mama Manoso 'accidentally' filled our fridge when she came over to keep our cartoon-covered Christmas tree watered."

"Grandma does have multitasking down," Julie noted, not taking her eyes off her brothers, watching them in a way that wasn't possible through a screen. "It's like their arms and legs are attached to a marionette string. Every time a little arm goes above their head, a leg kicks out."

"Those leg stretches are what prodded your Dad out of bed every morning the month before they were born. He got kicked almost as much as I did. At least right now, Trey is sticking to just kicking air, and is only gumming his own hand instead of the side of Jamie's head."

The room laughed, but Steph and I have seen each twin being used as a chew toy for the other, when they aren't cuddling their twin. The only time they aren't 'twin-talking' using " _Ahk_ " sounds, or playing soccer together without the need for a ball, is when we're at my parents' house or our Rangefamily is visiting. During those times, they're quickly separated as our family fights for the chance to hold them, which is what will happen again in a few hours when we have our Christmas dinner redo, now that Julie is here to enjoy it with us.

We had lunch that was Mama Manoso's conveniently left Teriyaki chicken casserole. After the boys had their nap, Julie helped us dress Jamie in his red winter onesie and quilted gray overalls with a reindeer face on the front. Trey got wrangled into a red sweater that had a penguin centered in the middle of it, paired with lined black corduroy pants with plaid cuffs. Red and green holiday socks were put on both. While Julie changed into a dress that was thankfully made for colder weather, with a long-sleeved black top and a burnished gold patterned skirt, Steph and I each got a baby into their separate Thermoball snowsuits ... Jamie in blue, Trey in silver.

We left the warmth of our house and walked the short distance to the Manoso home, and the Christmas party that was to be put off an extra day when I shared that I'd convinced Rachel and Ron to let Julie spend part of her vacation week with her new brothers. The birth of the twins originally postponed Christmas, but the promise of Julie had the re-plans suspended again until her flight was booked and an ETA was given.

Our daughter was walking in-between us, as Steph and I each carried a baby, but she stopped short at our intended destination.

"Grandma and Grandpa _did_ leave all the decorations up!"

"Was there any doubt?" I asked.

"No ... not really."

"She claims we're making up for a Christmas spent in the hospital, but I believe she would have kept everything intact until school resumed in hopes you could come see your brothers ... and of course visit your grandparents at the same time."

The five of us stopped briefly to appreciate the time, effort, and precision, my parents ... and likely Celia, Elias, and Nola, put in to string the white bulbs perpendicular to the eaves and every piece of molding attached to their home. The Bayberry shrubs in the front yard were woven with green lights, and the pine wreath on the front door had white lights as well as an illuminated red bow. The small lit Christmas trees on either side of the door ... tied the red bow/white light/green foliage theme together

"They really love Christmas, don't they?" Julie asked me.

I considered the question and gave her the answer I believe she's old enough to understand. "Your grandparents love life, Julie, and they love their family even more. Holidays just give them the opportunity to express it more tactility."

"I'm glad they do. I don't remember one holiday or birthday here being bad. Even if there's something going on that could change the mood, they don't let it. When Scrog took me, then Steph afterwards, I was afraid they'd let him ruin what little bit of time I was allowed here after the kidnapping, but we all had a great time. You and them, I think, helped me more than the therapist Mom and Dad wanted me to talk to every week. Being here, I realized that there's always more good in the world than bad, it's just sometimes you have to put some effort into spotting it."

"You are an amazing young woman, Jules. Your grandparents over-celebrate on purpose," Steph told her. "The world can really suck sometimes, and they want their home to be a refuge from that. You know ... a happy place to get away from reality for a few hours."

"Except this _is_ their reality, Babe."

"I know, which makes them all the more special."

"I almost forget how much I miss everyone," Julie admitted, "until I talk to you guys or come visit ... then I remember that I don't want to leave."

"Well ... we get to keep you until the first of the year, so we're going to celebrate the heck out of the time we were given. Be prepared, your Aunt Amalia and I found a "Happy New Year" tiara for you to wear for the New Year's Party happening before we have to give you back."

Walking into my parents' home had both Steph and Julie believing there will be no choice but to celebrate the hell out of any and all time we spend together.

"They even left the mini-lights on our egg tree?" Julie asked.

"Of course we did," her grandmother answered for us.

Jamie was immediately taken from me, first by my mother, then each one of my sisters wanted time with him. Steph was lucky to have kept her hold on Trey. The respect they have for her being a first time mom gave her an extended baby-keeping pass, and had them willing themselves to just be satisfied to hover around her as they talked to, kissed, and waved to, Trey until Steph admits defeat and offers to let them hold him as she takes back Jamie.

"This year has been an amazing one for this family, and every decoration and recipe chosen should show that."

"The chocolate torte definitely did," Steph told her, bending close to kiss a now snowsuit-less Jamie after she'd relieved Trey of his winter gear. "I had a healthy piece of it almost first thing after we all got home and got the boys settled."

"I'm so glad that you enjoyed it. I added an extra sprinkle or two of love to my usual recipe."

"I don't doubt it. I'm pretty sure I tasted each individual addition of affection. Can you believe that this time last year, Ranger and I were only newly engaged, and surprisingly about to be married right over there?" Steph said, pointing to where we said 'I Do'. "And now we're a family of five, living almost next door to you?"

"Like I've been saying to everyone, we've been blessed almost daily this year. Imagine our surprise to come down this morning and see a brand new silver Lexus crossover, and also a matching dark blue one in our driveway."

"Merry Christmas to you both," I said, kissing her cheek. "I believe that was the deal. If Steph got her wish and we started a family together, and you and Dad stopped discussing how that would be accomplished, I'd get you each a new car. It is protected by my company, so it won't be stolen and repairs are always free."

"You spoil us too much as it is," she replied, but her eyes were watery as she spoke.

"I'm in a position to spoil those I love _because_ of what this family has done for me. I consider this just part of an ongoing thank you for that, and a fulfillment to a promise I gave. I just ask that you accept and enjoy them."

"We will. And thank you. We'll test them out by driving the five of you home tonight. It'll be too cold to walk."

"Your son already got matching car seats to the ones we have," Steph informed her, "just in case."

"A ride home sounds good to me," Julie said, scanning the front entrance as we talked. "It feels and looks like we're inside a huge Christmas tree."

"That was our intention," my father said, joining us and stealing his granddaughter for a hug.

"Yeah, and their intention was also to get every single one of us up on a ladder at some point to hang greenery and lights," Nola shared. "Our instructions were to hang lit garlands from the ceiling, around all doorways, and every window, so it feels like you're walking through a forest in a North Pole December."

"Are there even forests in the North Pole?" Steph asked, making a face at Trey while trying to get Jamie's hair to stop sticking up now that his hood had been removed.

Since they were born, it feels like we've each had a hand on one or both of them 24/7 unless we had visitors ... which also felt like a 24/7 experience at times.

"I thought the North Pole only had snow, ice, and more snow," Steph continued, "no forests. I suppose it's possible, the reindeer do need someplace to live."

"In my version of Santa's Village, there _are_ most definitely forests," her mother-in-law said. "Along with bakeries, heated barns for the reindeer, and multiple toy shops where toys for children are all made by hand to be passed down from generation to generation."

"I like your Christmas World better than the one I was picturing," Steph assured her. "We've been here a bunch of times B.B. and H.B. - _Before Babies_ and _Having Babies_ \- and I still feel like a five-year-old walking through your Winter Wonderland, especially the ornament screens."

The ornaments for the suspended doorway curtains, or 'screens' as Steph calls them, are silver and gold plastic balls strung together to add Christmas/New Years ambiance while acting as a decorative ploy to block the activity in the other rooms ... particularly the kitchen.

Each furniture surface has a Christmas village or grouped-theme completely covering them. The coffee table held a large, snowy village with a Papa-crafted mountain for a centerpiece. A side table was home to a gingerbread family doing a little maintenance on their gingerbread house. A collection of Christmas bells topped another piece of furniture. I'll be offering to do whatever errand is needed when Steph's nieces arrive and discover the bells.

The ceilings of the downstairs rooms - as Nola explained and everyone can see - were lined or draped with evergreen garlands wrapped in white lights. The doorways, windows, and staircase, received matching holiday garb. To tie-in the outside decor, two of the same miniature trees that were flanking the front door, were guarding the stairs. In honor of Edna's first Christmas outfits for our boys - and what became our first holiday photo card for only a select few outside of my men - red roses were placed in small glass vases ringed with real candy canes tied together with a red-ribboned bow. More red roses were arranged in square containers with the sides lined with red and green wrapped 'presents' the size of match boxes.

Those small 'gifts' reminded me of the Christmas we had when I was seven. My mother had wrapped up empty boxes to act as _decorative_ presents to stack wherever a corner needed a little extra holiday cheer. Elias, being even nosier and hopeful as a child than he is right now, cried his baby brother heart out when he snuck out of bed the night after they were put out and opened box after box, only to discover that every one of the presents were in fact just empty boxes. That decoration-option was never used again, even after we all became adults and wouldn't unwrap anything unless it was handed to us with that purpose in mind.

Since the New Year is just about to be celebrated ... gold-glittered banners declaring ' _Happy New Year_ ', silver and black party hat wall-wreaths, and over-the-table champagne streamers, have already been worked in-between the Christmas decorations.

"Your parents think of everything," Steph whispered to me, moving Trey closer to the tree where he seemed to be so fixated on the lights, his dark eyes appeared crossed.

"They do."

"Especially when it comes to food. I'm never going to lose this twin weight if I keep getting invited over."

"You were beautiful when you came here for the first time for that birthday dinner of mine," I said, bending my head to kiss her and then Trey, "and you've only become more beautiful to me ... and more special to them."

"Thank you for saying that," she told me, waving Trey's hand at Julie who managed a victory and got Jamie back for a few minutes, "but I'm still praying that somewhere here, Santa left me that willpower I've been asking for, just because I was aware of the spread we'd find here."

'The Spread' contained new appetizers ... bite-size shortbread cookies with multicolored sprinkles mixed into the dough, for the kids who prefer sugar and artificial colors instead of the vibrant hues vegetables produce. Artichoke dip stuffed into hollowed-out bread too-conveniently pre-sliced, and cheesecake cookies with a holly and berry design on each one, were put out for everyone's over-enjoyment. A Santa face was made from cauliflower pieces, red pepper strips, grape tomatoes, and cucumber slices, was placed beside a roasted red pepper hummus and edamame guacamole.

Two more edible Christmas trees were created from sliced granny smith apples, green grapes, raspberries, and blueberries, topped with a cut out pineapple star, and came with a sweetened Greek yogurt dip to add 'snow' to the fruit if guests chose to dip it. The other was a 'tree' formed from steamed asparagus spears dressed for the holidays with sun-dried tomato 'garlands' and accompanied by a flavored-oil dipping sauce so Steph and Lester wouldn't complain that asparagus tastes too much like asparagus.

Given my mother's obsession/preoccupation with her grandchildren, Steph and I were given a heads-up on what to expect for dinner, instead of us just showing up and seeing what was being served. Steph had chosen the red, two-spaghetti-strapped Y-back dress, not because she looked edible herself in the three-ruffle mini-dress, or that it disguised the area of her body she's now self-conscious about, she told us she wore it to facilitate the consumption of the postponed Christmas dinner.

Despite what was pre-made and brought to the hospital on Christmas Eve, a french toast casserole, Grandma Rosa's jelly/custard doughnuts, and sausage ball sliders, were all brought with my family on their later-Christmas morning visit after my parents had two full hours of sleep. Since the Christmas Eve and Christmas Day dinners were delayed in favor of visiting the newest Manosos, tonight's menu had not just _one_ , but _three_ main course options ... a prime rib roast that used garlic, red wine, and fresh rosemary and thyme, to flavor the meat. The 'lighter' alternative was a Salmon Wellington. Plus a oven-roasted cranberry/Dijon glazed ham, in case leftovers were needed well into their separate New Year's celebration.

The side dishes offered were a crispy potato 'roast', Parmesan-crusted cauliflower florets, a sweet potato and feta tart, honey-basted hasselback butternut squash, and roasted baby carrots with green and yellow beans combined with bacon and sliced chestnuts, were supposed to cut the richness of the meat dishes my mother claimed. There were also whipped potatoes for those who liked traditional dishes over unique ones. Herbed skillet bread, Gruyere cheese popovers, and bundt pan-baked bread stuffing, were on hand to absorb any residual mushroom gravy.

I honestly believe my mother was happy to have her meticulously-planned holiday altered by having to spend a major holiday at a hospital with her new grandsons, because she was then able to bring in the second string of recipes that wouldn't have had time in the spotlight until next year if our babies hadn't made an appearance before Christmas. She even revised her dessert list so Stephanie wouldn't feel cheated about missing her favorite part of holiday meals. Cinnamon Dolce Latte cake, hot chocolate fudge and butter cookies - which I was told would both pair well with a glass of wine or mug of cocoa - a multi-layered rum-infused eggnog cake, Nutella-churro formed Christmas tree, the traditional chocolate cake/vanilla cream Bûche de Noël, and a cranberry buckle, made up the dessert bar.

"It always smells so good in here," Julie said to everyone.

"Browned butter and chocolate are natural air fresheners according to your grandparents," I told her.

"Which are your two favorite things behind bacon and cholesterol," my daughter fired back.

" _Someone_ knows her dad really, _really_ , well," Steph added, with a playful arm nudge. "Did you notice their tree?"

"Yeah. It's covered in mini-stocking ornaments. It's a cute idea, to not just hang stockings by the fireplace."

Steph tsked her. "Really? _That's it?_ I thought you would've done exactly what I did the second I saw them ... peek inside to see if anything was in them."

I watched in fascination as Julie immediately walked over to the tree and looked inside one white stocking that had a green edge around the top and a red train chugging towards the toe.

"Go on. It's okay," Steph urged. "We're supposed to pull out what's inside. So much so, your grandparents keep re-stuffing them as soon as one goes empty."

Julie did what Steph suggested and pulled out a card that was cut in the same shape as the stockings, but a smaller version so it could easily slip inside and back out again."

" _Children's hospital?_ " Julie said, reading her card out loud.

Steph lifted Trey higher on her shoulder, rubbing his back in reflex, which had his legs kicking in excitement as his mouth pressed into the bare skin of her shoulder. He and Jamie ate right before we came over, but the suckling instinct is a strong one.

"Yes," my mother said, coming back from the dining room holding Jamie. She gave him back to his Mama, but quickly stole Trey. "Given the current political climate we're trying to make sense of and deal with in our country, I wanted to use this Christmas to give back a little of the good fortune we've been lucky enough to have, while trying to show why unity and everyone looking out for each other is so important right now. Having such a large and generous family, I thought the idea of the stockings each containing a charity suggestion would maybe inspire all who visit us to celebrate this past year, or kick-start the new one, by thinking of what they can do to help those in need."

" _My_ stocking wanted me to help homeless Veterans," Steph told Julie. "I went back for seconds, and my next suggestion was to help put an end to child marriage practices. I started on that one right away by saying _my_ kids don't ever have to get married if they're against the idea. I want my boys and our Julie to chose and do only what makes them happy ... within reason. Being our babies, and also Manosos, Trey and Jamie insisted on each picking their own stockings, so feeding as well as sponsoring shelter animals, and Hurricane Maria and Harvey relief are covered, thanks to their individual and multiple participation."

"What did you get, Dad?"

"Empowering girls worldwide, stopping violence against women while helping to prosecute those who cause it, and also supporting victims of domestic violence," I answered.

"Those have been partly handled for years. Your Dad won't say what a good guy he is," my wife shared, "but by marrying into the company, I've learned all kinds of interesting things ... like that Rangeman has always provided free security for - and monthly donations to - the women's shelters in our area. I think part of his generosity is not only wanting to protect women and children, but also to allow himself and your Uncles to give pro bono lessons teaching the jerks threatening and endangering women, how females like us should be treated."

"Treatment veers more towards being _worshipped_ in the case of you and Julie," my father said to us.

"As Stephanie said, that's how they _should_ be treated," I told the room. "Like _all_ Manoso women should be."

"Don't worry, big brother," Amalia said to me, "you, Dad, Elias, actually _all_ of your men that we've met ... especially Hal, have given each of us examples of who we should wait for, and your job explains without words what we should _never_ to settle on."

To distract me from that Hal-mention, Steph quickly spoke up. "Every one of you deserve the best," she told her sisters-in-law, lovingly bumping her non Jamie-holding shoulder against my body, which is my cue to pull her closer, "but I'm afraid I've already married _the best_."

"I can't decide if I want to hug you for loving Carlos the way you do," Celia said to her, "or gag because you love _my brother_ like that."

"We all love Dad, Aunt Celia. If _he_ hasn't gagged hearing that, _you_ should be okay."

"We did something really right with this group," my mother whispered to our father, but loud enough so we could all hear them.

"You and our children are my greatest joy and biggest accomplishment."

"You gonna gag again, Aunt C?" Julie asked Celia.

"Nope. Even though I have to share the 'Daddy's Girl' title with three sisters, I'm happy to hear that we all remain in the running. _Your_ Daddy's Girl title, Miss Jules, goes unchallenged ... since you have two _brothers_."

"Which is what made this year's tree so important to us," my father added. "We now have three grandchildren to protect and also help guide through life, along with our own six children and daughter-in-law to worry about and be proud of, and I want the world to be a safer, kinder, and overall better, place for all of you when you're forced to confront it."

"What stocking charity did you get, Grandpa?" Julie asked, genuinely interested.

"Like every family member has done, your Grandpa didn't limit himself to just one," my mother shared. "Though Tatty still holds the record. Last time she visited, she took a whole section from the back of the tree."

"Let me make an educated guess," I said to her. "Aunt Tatty was afraid of an out of sight/out of mind outcome, so she purposely chose the stockings that weren't visible so those charities wouldn't be ignored."

Tatty was never in the military, but she understands how easily being far from home can make you feel like less than an afterthought to those left behind. When I was sent to live in Miami, and was deployed years later, she made sure there was never a lag in phone calls or letters to me from her. I was never out of her thoughts even if she wasn't able to see me. My parents felt, and have done the same, but she didn't know that. Also Tatty not being related - therefore not _required_ to give a shit about me - made her time and attention more meaningful and more memorable.

To spare myself some irreversible hurt, early on I tested Stephanie. I'd give her expensive cars, disappear on missions or cases and not tell her ahead of time or when/ _if_ I'd be back, and I pulled her close while verbally trying to push her away. Though she does enjoy the luxury, she doesn't care about the money I have or if I suddenly lost it all. When I was 'in the wind', she would try every single number she had for me, even bravely harassing Tank long before she realized what a gentle man he is unless you fuck with him or those he cares about, and she would just ask if I was okay ... with tears I could hear in her voice. And Steph always pulled me even closer while telling herself she _should_ be pushing me away but couldn't. When I didn't leave one night, she wasn't at all inclined to ask me to. Our relationship was simplified after that. We're both the only thing the other needs.

"You are right, my dear Carlos," I heard my mother reply. "Tatty was walking out the door already planning a gallery exhibit, of which the proceeds will go to organizing care packages for Servicemen/women currently stationed overseas in war zones. She's also trying to find unique ways of showing appreciation for our first responder-protectors here ... firemen, police officers, paramedics, etc. Along with being on a mission to collect as many donations as she can to further cancer research, and to get immunizations _and_ educations, for children whose parents can't afford either one. I'm not ashamed to admit, I cheated and put all the food-centered charities in the snowman stockings so I could zero in on those, knowing a little something about feeding a crowd. _No one_ in this day in age, _especially children_ , should be going hungry no matter if it's down the street from us or half a world away. That's one thing _everybody_ should be able to agree on, that _every_ child should be fed, loved, and protected. We all end up paying a price when they aren't."

"I can't agree more with my lovely bride. And since you asked, my beautiful granddaughter," Grandpapa Manoso told Julie, "my stocking picks involved supporting human rights campaigns, ending bigotry and all forms of hate, and preserving what's left of the environment. I believe every person/child/animal/and habitat, should be respected, supported, and appreciated. I want my grandchildren to know what rainforests, glaciers, wolves, and National Parks are, without having to consult a _history_ book first. _We_ brought all of you into this world, which means it's _our_ responsibility and unspoken duty to take care of it for you."

"Amen, Maurice," my mother said, kissing her husband ... not needing mistletoe to prompt the affection.

A quick double-knock on the door broke them apart. My mother was the closest to it, so she and Trey reached it before a second combo-knock could be accomplished.

"I'm not late, am I?" Grandma Mazur said, coming in and bringing the scent of snow inside with her. She paused to kiss her great-grandson before continuing into the house where we were all gathered. "Valerie, Albert, and the girls, are on their way. I wasn't willin' to wait for them to pick me up. Since you let it slip that some of Ranger's men were comin' here, I called Rangeman and asked to hitch a ride with someone. That Tank's a real sweetie pie. He swung by the house, drove me here, and even walked me to the door before goin' back to park that rig of his and get the presents I brought. He'll be comin' in right behind me."

"Oh, good. The kids - baby and teen - were hoping he'd get here early. And you're not late at all," Steph assured her, as my mother urged Edna out of her dress coat. "Your timing is actually perfect. We haven't even made it out of the dining room yet. We've been talking about the changes we're bringing into the New Year."

"So I _did_ show up at the right time."

"Yep, you definitely did. Would you like to tell everyone what you, Ranger, and I, were talking about and now decided?"

"Darn tootin', I would. That's why I got here later than I'd planned on. I just got done tellin' your stick-in-the-mud folks. I was goin' to be nice and wait until after the holidays, but your mother started in on me for coming over here at night ..."

"It's only five o'clock," Ophelia said.

She fortunately doesn't know Helen Plum well enough to understand why early sunsets and Newark are a problematic combination. Mrs. Plum is under the impression that every inch of Newark is unsafe, even in broad daylight right in front of the police station. So naturally, dark nights and contact with me have her terrified. As it should, since I've already used my 'evil' influence to lure her daughter away from Burg-hell, and brainwashed her into believing her life should be a happy one.

My mother was already suspicious, quickly sensing another unexpected announcement. "Told Mr. and Mrs. Plum what?" She asked. "What's going on now? I thought waking up to brand new vehicles was your intended holiday surprise."

"They were one of them. Go ahead, Grandma," Steph told Edna.

"You ain't the only one who's learned a thing or two from these Manosos," Edna told her granddaughter. "Why should I stay where I'm not wanted, with people who don't appreciate me, who keep giving me grief just for breathing in 'their' house, when I have other options?"

"Options?" My dad asked.

"You should tell them, Babe," I prompted, "since this was a solution you thought up and sold me on."

Her excitement at this point in the surprise announcement was palpable. Even Jamie sensed it and is now making ' _KA_ ' cough-like sounds and waving his arms while lying in hers, in response to the change he felt in her.

"As soon as the renovations are finished and an interior designer has come and gone, Grandma will be getting not just an apartment, but a whole floor of her own in the new Newark Rangeman building. She'll be safe, she'll get a break from my parents, and also be close to her great-grandsons while being a place nearby where my nieces can hang out and bounce between our house and Grandma's apartment when Val and Albert have to work. Not only is it going to be a ' _Happy New Year_ ' for us Manosos ... and Mazurs, it's also gonna be an interesting one for everyone here. And I, for one, am really looking forward to spending it with the family I married into and have now added to."


	13. Chapter 13

**All familiar characters and any recognizable scenes belong to Janet. Mistakes are solely mine. Most of the food and decorations I saw online, and Steph and Ranger's gifts can be bought online. Warnings for a little adult Valentine's Day 'fun'.**

 **Chapter 13**

 **Ranger's POV**

"What would you guess they're thinking about when they're looking at each other that way?" Steph asked, staring at the wriggling tangle of arms and legs lying on the bed in front of us.

Their faces were turned towards each other, and it did feel as though there's a conversation happening that we can't understand. At seven plus weeks, Jamie and Trey have been steadily growing, but in just diapers and short-sleeve onesies, they still appear small and achingly defenseless. Their legs are minus the pudge that they'll soon be packing on. And while longer ... their arms are still as spindly as they were when they were born.

Steph claims it's because their limbs are never still long enough for baby fat to form on them. Their bellies are another matter. They are adorably rounded and apparently addictive, since she is always either rubbing them, blowing raspberries on them, or using them in some game that is extremely amusing to our boys, given the toothless smiles she receives every time she touches them or her voice turns playful.

"They're probably comparing notes on how different life is outside of you than inside," I answered, while finger-combing Jamie's hair.

"I would say it's likely louder out here, but it's probably not. Between my talking, complaining while I tried to get comfortable, and eating everything I could, I was a walking noise machine. I feel bad that all of that had been amplified for them in there," she said, her hand resting briefly on her abdomen.

"So birth was an easy transition for them, because my family is a loud one and the boys haven't had a break from them."

She leaned over to kiss Trey and then Jamie when they stopped staring at - or chewing on - each other and began paying a bit more attention to us.

"I think they're like me and _don't want_ a break from anyone in your family. Speaking of ... is a Valentine's Day dinner/party your mom's way of making us old, married with children, couples feel less bad about not having big plans on what is advertised as the 'most romantic day of the year'?"

"First off, we're still in the newlywed phase of our marriage, and we are far from old. And no matter how old and settled, or young and single, members of my family are, my siblings know that even if they all have dates, they have to schedule them for later in the evening so they can still stop in at Casa de Manoso for at least an hour before they continue their holiday."

"So no dates will be there?" She asked.

"No. I'm sure you've noticed the lack of them. Only the ones who are guaranteed to be joining the family come to these get-togethers. My parents and grandparents are not shy about voicing their opinion if they don't think someone is adoring their offspring sufficiently, so the chances of a relationship surviving are upped if only serious commitments are presented to them."

Steph's lower lip disappeared between her teeth as she thought about that. "Your family has never been anything except incredibly kind and loving towards me, even the very first time you brought me there."

I reached an arm out to pull her to me for a kiss, careful not to jostle the bed or the babies 'playing' on it.

"So you understood what I was saying. I took you there because from the day I met you, I saw you as my future. The _only_ person who has ever doubted that you're mine ... was _you_ ," I told her.

"See ... this is what I meant last night when I was talking to Celia and told her that I don't need to go out to experience romance. You provide it every other minute of the day. I know you both can't hold pens yet, but you boys should start taking mental notes at least," she instructed our twins, with a hand again going to each full belly to give them a tickle-squeeze. "Your Daddy is the type of man you want to grow up to be. Other guys want to be him and women are completely jealous of your Mommy because he's all mine. Well, he's yours, too. I'm alright sharing Daddy with you two and your sister."

She punctuated her words with a kiss to the bottom of each tiny bare foot in front of her, narrowly missing an excited kick to the nose after contact with Trey.

"More than a few men are jealous of me, Babe, because I managed to convince you to marry me."

"Yeah, right," she said, shaking a rattling-ring first above Trey and then over Jamie. Their brown and blue eyes are already following whatever moved back and forth in front of their faces.

"I'm not kidding. You saw Morelli's reaction ..."

"Nothing about _him_ is normal," she stated, "so I'm not judging _anything_ by his reaction to it."

"My men would all be lining up to marry you if they believed they had a shot and I wouldn't kill them first for them seeing you as someone other than _my wife_."

"They joke about that just because they're sweet guys and they are always trying to make me feel better or more confident. Maybe before I got pregnant ..."

"Stop there, Stephanie. You've always been blind to your own beauty, but now you're focused on one area of your body, you can't see how attractive you are overall. What makes your beauty even more stunning, is it flows from the inside out. Being a mom has only _enhanced_ your appeal, it's done nothing to diminish it. _Unfortunately_."

I picked up Jamie as she scooped up Trey. Jamie grinned while Trey sneezed twice in rapid succession. "Bless you," she told him, before turning her head to look at me. " _Unfortunately_ you consider me still hot?"

"Yes. I'm running out of places to bury the bodies of those who stupidly believe it's alright to stare, wink, or smile, at you."

"Daddy's a funny guy, isn't he?" She asked Trey.

He didn't confirm nor deny the statement, he just stared at her and continued to move his mouth and his tongue in a way we've become very familiar with. Beside crying, eating, and moving their limbs, it's what they spend the majority of their time doing.

"Did Daddy put peanut butter on the roof of your mouth?" She teased Trey, going nose to nose with him. "And that's why you keep sticking your tongue out at us like that? Not that it isn't cute as hell. We have to work on the crossed-looking-eyes-thing you and your brother have going, though."

"An unfortunate result of only being able to see or focus on objects within a certain range."

"That's all you need to see right, Jamie?" She asked, reaching over to tickle him under his chin. "Our faces say it all ... like how much Mommy and Daddy love you and your big brother."

"You aren't good at hiding how much you love us, I will say that," I told her.

"Good. I don't want to hide what I'm feeling. Been there, done that ... and it sucked big time."

"We don't want you to hold _anything_ back from us."

The boys agree. They can't verbalize it, but I've spent a lot of time with them so I feel comfortable speaking for them when it comes to how they feel about their Mama. The beginning of our New Year was spent on autopilot. We'd sleep for an hour or two, got up for three, changed diapers and onesies, wiped faces and washed bodies. And I've spent a lot of time rubbing Steph's back or tunneling my fingers through her curls to massage her scalp as she fed them. I placed calls to Tank when the boys and Steph were napping, and once a week she, Jamie, Trey, and I, will take a ride by the Newark Rangeman location to check the progress on its remodel before I drive us to Trenton to see Ella and all the men who by Friday had run out of valid reasons to drop by.

Ella, Louis, Tank, and just about every man working away from Stephanie and our babies, have 'threatened' to move to Newark if we don't put in an appearance at least once a week with a promise to stay for a few hours. I think we're all starting to see Newark as our home base, and everyone tends to migrate from Trenton as soon as they get some free time. I know if they aren't guaranteed weekly twin/Stephanie time, there would be mutiny at Rangeman. As it is, there have already been multiple inquiries on how many men the new building can house, and if I'd be pissed if they request a move into the newest branch.

Steph hadn't commented on our being glad that she's becoming more expressive daily, instead she was watching my face as I pictured how the men I've trained to handle any situation, turn into overgrown replicas of my mother whenever Jamie and Trey appear on the fifth floor in Trenton. The smiles they form at seeing our babies, rival ones they've displayed after rescuing someone during a life or death moment. It's amazing and also humbling to witness ... two new lives - ones I helped create - working to replace a memory of lives they couldn't save or had to take themselves.

As I'd been expecting it to, my phone buzzed from where I'd set it beside the bed.

"I was just thinking about Julie," Steph said. "I'm guessing that's her and she just got the flowers you sent."

"She was supposed to get a delivery after school but before dinner, so you'd be right," I told her, shifting Jamie so Julie would be able to see her brother as we FaceTimed.

"Hey, Dad," Julie said as soon as she saw me. She paused for a second. "And hi, _Jamie?_ "

"Yes. Steph has Trey."

That had my wife moving in close with our other son, and she helped Trey wave to his sister. "Hi Jules. We miss you. Happy Valentine's Day."

"Thank you. I miss all of you, too," she said before Steph sat back up against the pillows.

Steph tipped her head into my arm so she could be in on the call, but not feel like she's interrupting it.

"And thank you for the flowers," Julie told me. "I didn't know they could make a teddy bear out of flowers _plus_ have him holding roses for me. I've already named him ' _Petal_ ton, since he's made of flowers and _is_ a bear like Paddington."

I'm not surprised hearing that. She's had a habit of naming things since she was old enough to start talking; her blanket, stuffed animals, her favorite purple sippy cup, and every pet she's had. One time when she was around four, I was allowed to see her on leave and Julie had immediately started calling my Dog Tags ... ' _Daddy Tags'._ She had been convinced the only reason I was wearing them was to let everyone know _I'm_ her Daddy.

"I'd hoped to choose something you'd enjoy more than just a typical dozen roses," I told her.

"You know you didn't have to get me anything ..."

"I disagree. You need to know how loved you are, and how much we think of you _everyday_ , not just on your birthday and Christmas."

Under the pretense of tickling Jamie's foot, which was resting against my sternum, Steph gave me an affectionate ab rub for not holding anything back myself when it comes to our kids.

Scrog was a wake-up call as well as my worst nightmare. Not knowing where Julie was or how she was being treated, did a good job of gutting me emotionally. But once she was safe, I was haunted by the fact that I could've lost her and she never would've known just how much I love her, and how much I _need_ to know she's safe and happy at all times.

"I do know you love me. Before you say anything, Steph, I know you love me too. You guys tell me that you love me _every time_ I talk to you," she joked, yet we could see in her eyes and in her smile how happy hearing it so often makes her. "But since I do like flowers ... thank you again. I put Petalton on my dresser."

She turned her phone so we could see that the flower-bear is not only in her bedroom, but placed not far from her bed. It'll likely be the first and last thing she sees everyday.

"You are very welcome," I told her. "Don't eat too much chocolate today."

She laughed. "Too late. We had a Valentine's Party at school. We had chocolate, cupcakes, plus we made Valentine's Day Popcorn by mixing popcorn with melted pink-colored white chocolate, white chocolate chunks, and pink and red M&Ms. Mom almost gagged when I told her about it, but I know Steph would've _loved it_. "

That got my wife rejoining the conversation. "How about next year you invite me to your party? It sounds like your school is a kinder/gentler one than what I remember."

"I'll ask if they need chaperones," she said, not missing a beat. "I love you both, and of course you and Trey, Jamie. I'm coming to see all of you hopefully next month."

"All I need is a pickup date," I told her.

"If I remain good, I'll have one by Saturday."

"You started at good and have since bypassed amazing, but let us know as soon as you can come," Steph added. "The boys do what they can to keep the house from being too quiet, but your room could use a little noise in it."

"I was already planning to call. Have a good time at Grandma's. And send pictures."

"Between your grandmother and Stephanie, you should be asking them to _stop_ sending pictures by now, not requesting more of them."

"Not a chance. Love you. And call me tomorrow."

"I will," I promised her, staring at the face so much like my own, wondering where the time has gone.

It feels like she was as small as her brothers are now not that long ago. The beautiful young woman who waved before disconnecting seems older than my mind sees her.

"I love when she calls," Steph was saying, "but it makes me miss her even more."

"I know the feeling."

"But we do have plans to take our minds off the distance between us and her. As much as I've enjoyed spending a day in my pjs, and with all of you in bed for a good chunk of it, I suppose it's time for me to be a grown-up and get dressed so we can head over to your parents' place."

"I'll try to keep the boys amused so you'll have more than five minutes to yourself."

"I'm getting better at managing my time, deciding what's important and what's just a waste of it. If I go get their party clothes, would you get them dressed while I change? I can take over afterwards so you can get ready."

"If I could train Brown and Santos, I can get these two dressed in the nursery, Steph."

She kissed Trey and passed him to me to make almost identical bookends against my chest. "I have every confidence in your abilities, but I'll get their clothes anyway. I don't smell anything weird, but I'll grab diapers and wipeys just in case. You can't relax your guard when it comes to numbers 1 and 2 with these two."

It's only been a few weeks, but she's proving to be a natural. The three of us got a kiss, hug, or an affectionate squeeze, when she came back from the nursery. She then disappeared into the bathroom with her own clothes, leaving the door partially open so only a slightly raised voice or cry would get us reinforcements.

When she reemerged, she looked even more incredible than she had in the short, red shorts and white tank top she'd had on for most of the day. She's now wearing a sleeveless black dress that had a plunging v-neckline breaking up the distractingly clingy lace-accentuated top. The dress had a matching shimmering lace border brushing her thighs, which looked even sexier with the ankle strap heels she put on. I still try to convince her not to wear heels for safety reasons, but I do appreciate the view every time she ignores me and chooses an even higher pair.

"Do I look too dressy?" She asked, looking down at herself. "I like the way this dress fits better than the others."

"As always, you look perfect. Trey agrees," I told her, as he kicked his feet and extended even his toes towards her just from hearing her voice again.

"Thank you both," she said, kissing first me and then our babies. "Jamie seems excited, too. I think anytime they get to move around they're happy, since they can't get up by themselves."

"That's what it seems like at night."

Being used to little-to-no sleep, I try to calm and settle both boys by walking them the length of the nursery or the upstairs hallway, just so she can get more rest, but as soon as one or both of them start to wake up ... she wakes herself up. The woman who literally needed to be dragged out of bed anytime before nine, now rolls away from me and out of bed before her eyes are even open just because our boys need something.

Her eyes are wide open now, eyeballing me in a way I can completely get behind. I'm wearing black sweatpants and an equally dark tank top. I could be in less now that the temperature stays on one the boys are comfortable in, yet I might as well be standing here naked from the way she's looking me up and down. But Jamie distracted her by tipping his head back against my bicep. She instantly became worried that he'll tilt it _too far_ back. He's fine, but I let her take him.

She supported his little body with both of her hands under his arms and her forearms behind his back. The blue and white puppy socks were pressed into her chest, and Jamie folded himself almost in half and tried to spring back almost a legs-length away from her. They can't do much, but what they can accomplish, they do with enthusiasm.

They aren't dressed the same, but they are in complementary Dalmatian outfits. Black pants on one, black overalls on the other. Trey had a white all-over Dalmatian print shirt under his overalls that had a small dog on the bib of them, while Jamie is wearing a pale blue sweater with a smiling Dalmatian sitting at attention on the front of it.

"Yup," she said, looking into Jamie's eyes after tugging his socks up a little more and then adjusting the sleeve on Trey's shirt. "We're going to lose them again _the second_ we get into your parents' house."

"You thought there was another possible outcome?"

"Nope. I wasn't a baby-person before having two of them, and even the old me would've tried to steal these two."

I passed Trey to her and waited until she had them curled securely into her chest before I quickly switched out my sweats and tank top for clothes my mother won't shake her head at. In the nine minutes I was gone, Steph had gone downstairs with the boys and already had a diaper bag packed up, and she had moved onto getting them into their coveralls.

"You work fast," I commented.

"Yep. I've been taking lessons from you."

I grinned at her before getting Trey into his outerwear. It is cold out, in the high twenties, but thankfully not snowing when we left our home and walked over and into my parents' house.

I was glad to see that Stephanie doesn't feel the need to knock anymore. My family has made her feel so comfortable in their space, she just calls out " _Hello? It's us again!_ " as she opens the front or back door.

"Oh good," my mother said, coming out of the dining room. "You were able to come early. Now you know the rules ..."

"Yes, we do," my wife told her. "We're supposed to put our babies in your arms and our coats in your closet."

Both women smiled over at me, but my mother was the one who spoke. "You married a good one, Carlos. Stephanie is as smart as she is sweet."

"I know. Marrying her was the best move of my life," I admitted.

My mother hadn't snagged Jamie yet, so she was able to pat my cheek in a loving and a very approving way. It's obvious that I respect Stephanie as much as I love her _._ And feeling respected is extremely important to all Manoso women.

I helped Steph out of her dress coat and put it and my own jacket in the closet before slipping my arm around her as we ventured further into the rooms that are decorated in a way that to me looked like a cross between Christmas and Valentine's day. My mother's was a more mature take on the standard paper-heart decorations. And it seemed like a lot of work for only a one-day holiday that would be 'enjoyed' by the family for only three hours tops.

Topiaries and floral foam cone-trees were made festive by being covered entirely in red roses. Those trees were all set beside upside down wine glasses that were covering even more roses, while white or red ball candles sat on the bases of the upended glassware that are now convenient candle-holding-surfaces. The sideboard and a few side tables held more Valentine's trees made by using candy for something other than creating cavities. Mama Manoso had glued Conversation Hearts to styrofoam tree forms where they wouldn't be able to hurt anyone. The same apothecary jars that had been filled with glass Christmas ornaments and white lights before getting schlepped to our hospital room for Trey and Jamie's first Christmas, are now filled with red, pink, and white, wooden hearts spray painted with glitter-infused paint that had them reflecting light from any candle lit near them.

White ceramic cake stands were placed on both sides of the Manoso egg tree and topped with red flower wreaths circling trios of white pillar candles. Heart banners lined the stairs, and the dining room was either where romance began or where it went to die, depending on your view of the money-driven holiday. Above the table, Chinese lanterns had been hung to complement the red and white dining room table below them. My mother had settled on a simple yet still elegant design. A stark white and starched tight tablecloth set the stage for a red runner spilling down it. The stacked plates at each seat were white, the cloth napkins tortured into rose buds sitting on top of them were red, the glasses are crystal and gleaming, and the utensils remained silver without a trace of the tarnish that usually plagues antique tableware.

One large white wood and glass lantern was set smack in the middle of the table and table runner, and was filled with white candles plus red flowers had been scattered around the base of the wax pillars. Two smaller lanterns of the same design that mirrored the decorations in the larger one, were placed at equal intervals along the length of the dining room table. Any residual space was filled in with small red flower arrangements and white votive candles placed inside red-tinted glass holders.

"All of this just for a quick get-together?" Steph whispered to me.

"Yes. The Manosos believe you go big or go home in everything they do."

"No matter how many times I come here, or how many holidays we celebrate with your parents, I always feel a small amount of shock at the amount of care and time they put into everything in their world."

"And _I'm_ always shocked," I admitted, before giving her a quick kiss, "whenever I pass what is supposed to be the ' _appetizer_ ' table, when it holds more food than some mess halls I've eaten in."

"And that's exactly why I'm heading there next."

I was right behind her, attracted _to her_ as much as she was to _the food_. White cheddar hearts were lined up in-between slices of tomatoes and whole basil leaves, all drizzled with a balsamic reduction that my mother got from Ella. While Steph smiled, I wanted to roll my eyes at the salad containing X and O cheese additions sprinkled randomly over the Romaine. Heart-shaped quesadillas and citrus-glazed green apple and avocado slices ... again tortured by a cookie cutter, took up more room on the table.

Pineapples, mangoes, cantaloupe, and watermelon, were not safe from my mother, and they got the same holiday treatment. Grapes and pitted olives were severed in two on the diagonal and reattached via gold arrow picks to form more edible hearts. And both potatoes and strawberries had been peeled and cooked, or just deliberately sliced, to form fruit and vegetable roses. Celia's handiwork no doubt.

I can't pinpoint the holiday when the rules changed and it became acceptable for a little dessert to be 'enjoyed' before our dinner had been eaten, but the traditional appetizer table has since morphed into two - or three, depending on the holiday and size of the crowd attending - as bite-sized sweet treats were added to the savory lineup. Chocolate pound cake was already sliced to expose its pink-hearted center. Two pies were made, one strawberry the other cherry, both topped with a scattered-heart top crust. Those I know are acting strictly as decoration for the moment.

The pies are the actual dessert tonight, along with a vanilla Conversation Heart pinata cake, and chocolate beet cake with candied pecan filling and cream cheese frosting, that I'd heard being discussed during a phone call Steph was having with my mother. The miniature red velvet whoopie pies, chocolate mousse filled strawberries, and the double-dozen champagne flutes filled with raspberry cheesecake mousse, had my blood sugar spiking just from inhaling their fumes.

With Steph being a new mom, my mother knows to immediately return one or both boys to Stephanie if they become upset or looked to be about to cry. That being the case today, Steph held Trey in one arm when he started to fuss, yet she didn't fight the urge to snag a pie dough 'envelope' stuffed with a raspberry almond filling. She gently swayed her body until he calmed back down again as she bit into one of the edible 'love notes' my mother wanted to bestow on everyone visiting tonight.

"You outdid yourself yet again," Steph told her mother-in-law, when she finished chewing. "These are amazing as well as creative enough to be in one of those holiday magazines they try to unload from those racks lining the checkout aisles. Actually, the downstairs looks like we just stepped into a Valentine's Day card."

"I'm so glad you like what I've thrown together this year," my mother replied, as my siblings began to trickle in, "but I'm afraid you're not staying."

I grinned at her. "You purposely made sure we agreed to come over, and you got excited when we arrived a few minutes early, only to kick us immediately out?"

"Yes, but I'm keeping my grandsons. _Surprise!_ Celia, Ophelia, and Edna, are purposely late. They were waiting for you to get here so they could move in. Right now, they are in your dining room quickly laying out the surprise dinner I had planned for just the two of you. You both have been going nonstop since those baby boys of ours were born."

"Between the twins, usual Rangeman business, and 'nudging' your contractor to get our city's building finished, you both deserve some time to just relax without needing to change a diaper or answer a call," my father added.

"I appreciate the thought behind this," Steph said to them. "It's one of the nicest things you've done for us, but despite all the incredible food being served here, our babies can't eat any of it. _I'm_ all they have, and I didn't plan for time spent away from them."

She received what is the closest thing my mother will give to a 'tsk'. "I've been _exactly_ where you are right now, my dear Stephanie. We're not kidnapping our grandbabies indefinitely, we're just trying to give you an hour or so to unwind and a chance to breathe again."

"Clock's ticking, Bro," Elias commented. "If Steph were _my_ wife, I'd be doing something other than standing here talking."

My parents conveniently turned away so I could punch him without them needing to tell me to behave.

"You must've pulled that punch," my wife told me, "or Elias wouldn't be smiling right now."

"It's fortunate for him that I'm currently in a good mood. It could do a complete 180 by the time we come back to pick up our boys, so it's something to keep in mind."

"I'm not scared," he said, with a cocky wink directed towards Stephanie.

I shook my head in pity. "That's a shame ... not only aren't you pretty, you aren't very bright, either. You can't get by on looks _or_ brains."

My mother wasn't willing to let that slide despite my insults being mild compared to what's said when she isn't around and listening.

She shook her index finger at me. "You be nice to your brother, Carlos."

"Yeah, Carlos," Elias taunted. "After all ... _I'm_ going to be here with my nephews while _you're_ down the street."

"Don't worry," Celia said, coming in just in time to catch the threat. "I'll keep our _little_ brother in check. These babies will be safe from him."

"Yeah, but who's going to keep Jamie and Trey safe from you?" Nola asked, playfully elbowing her. " _You're_ the one who keeps trying to walk off with one or both of them whenever Steph or Carlos turns their backs for a second."

"Can you blame me? With those cheeks and that spiky hair, they're perfect ... and I didn't have to do any work to get them. It's hardly fair that Carlos is younger than me and he has three kids ... and I'm still only thinking about having some."

"Lower your standards a little," Elias unwisely advised, "and you'd have a better chance of producing your own munchkins."

"No," Celia immediately replied. "I want a man like the ones in this family ... except for you. I'm not settling, so making off with Trey and Jamie seems like a more attainable goal."

It's not, but she is never to settle for less than she deserves, I'll make sure of it.

"I completely understand that," Nola agreed. "And I can't argue how adorable they are, but _I'm_ smart enough to know that the parents of our nephews will mercilessly torture anyone with designs on their babies."

"That's true," Steph admitted. "I can handle dinner with my hubby away from them, but my boys _had better_ be here when we come to pick them up."

"I've got Elsie with me," Edna told her granddaughter, having come in with Celia and Ophelia after their break-in. "I'll make sure my great-grandboys are returned to you."

Both Stephanie and I tensed until Edna moved her dentures around in her mouth and gave us a mischievous smile, not unlike the one Elias produced.

"I'm kiddin'," she admitted. "My long barrel don't belong near my great-grandsons or great-granddaughters, but I will be waitin' here until you kids get back in case you need backup."

"Edna, we invited you here for dinner as one of our guests of honor," my mother said, giving Edna's bony shoulders a gentle hug, "not to act as a bodyguard for Trey and Jamie."

"They're gonna know their 'ol Granny is here for them," Mrs. Mazur said, managing to get Jamie away from Celia.

His bright blue eyes were smiling up into his great-grandmother's paler ones, while Celia was doing the opposite of smiling until Steph let her take Trey.

"Thank you all for doing this," my wife told our family. "But beware, this could easily become a regular occurrence."

"We're counting on it," my father added. To me he said, "Your mother has spent an the majority of the month pouring over recipes and looking through table ideas to give you both the perfect meal just so you may consider repeating it at least once a week."

"Bribing us with good food and a chance to talk about something besides diaper contents is a good way of getting more babysitting opportunities," Steph said.

"Let's get to it then," I suggested. "We'll see you in a little while."

"Save me one of those mousse-filled champagne glasses," Steph instructed, as she kissed our boys goodbye temporarily.

Amalia walked over to the table where they were lined up and grabbed one for Stephanie.

"Consider it an appetizer," my sister told her. "Or sustenance for the trek home."

"I love this family," Steph told us, digging out Trey's favorite blue elephant stick rattle and Jamie's plush plane noisemaker from the bag she'd packed in case a quick diversion is needed, before taking the champagne flute and long-handled spoon she was being offered.

"And we love and see you as one of our own, Stephanie," my father promised her. "Enjoy your evening. We'll take excellent care of our grandsons."

With that assurance, I retrieved our coats and helped Steph back into hers, not minding in the slightest this change in plans. I didn't even mind that our home had been invaded without my knowledge. Time alone with my wife is something I will never feel I have enough of. The way she wound herself around my arm as we walked home, led me to believe the feeling is mutual.

"Oh, this is absolutely perfect," she exclaimed, as soon as I unlocked our door.

She had made a beeline for the dining room we still haven't used very much even living here full-time since before Christmas. My mother's table had been primarily white, pink, and red ... appropriate yet slightly whimsical. Our dining room exuded romance. The table was fitted with a black tablecloth, white satin runner, and the square plates were stacked to go white to black to white again, with only sporadic bursts of red coming from the rose-filled centerpiece, cloth napkins, and something non-alcoholic that was a Cabernet color which had already been poured. Lit candles would've been a fire hazard while left unattended, but just them being placed inside crystal holders helped provide a romantic atmosphere.

Steph put her mousse glass down after only one spoonful for herself and one fed to me. She lifted the cover on the silver serving tray that was set off to the side of the table. Perfectly cooked beef tenderloin, roasted heart-shaped Yukon Gold potatoes, and fettuccine alfredo - Steph's favorite for her - and red wine braised root vegetables for me, were prepared and left for our eating pleasure.

"Oooh, we even have tiramisu for two for dessert," she commented. "Your mom is the best."

"She thinks the same of you."

"I hope so."

"You don't have to _hope_ , Babe," I said, pulling her to me. "It's a known _fact_."

Her arms came around my waist as she leaned into me. "This is strange, not having to listen for anything except what you say. I'm not sure what to do first. Should we eat? Exchange gifts?"

I had another option in mind, but I've never pushed her for what she isn't ready to give, and I don't plan to begin today. So I pulled out her chair for her and told myself that sharing a meal with her is just as pleasurable as making love to her, just in a different way.

"We can eat and give our gifts at the same time," I suggested.

"Okay," she said about to sit down, but she shot right back up. "I thought chances were good that we'd get to the gifts only after we got back and the boys were asleep, so mine for you is in the drawer by my side of the bed."

"Relax, Steph. I'll get it," I told her, running my fingertips along the nape of her neck as I turned towards the stairs.

I hid a smile at her immediate reaction to my touch and went to retrieve my gift, curious to see what she chose. I also grabbed my present for her before rejoining her in the dining room. She had fixed us each a plate from the mother-tray while I'd been gone.

She was taking a sip from her glass when I walked back in and dropped a kiss to her curls as I placed both boxes in front of her before taking my seat across from her.

I'm interested in her, not the food, but knowing my mother will ask and be hurt if her hard work went untouched, I took a bite of the medium-well tenderloin, as Steph went for a potato before she spoke.

"I wasn't sure what to get a guy who has everything or can buy whatever he wants or needs," she began. "But your mother got me thinking ..."

"That's dangerous."

"What is? Me thinking or your mother having been an influence?"

"I love the way your mind works, Steph. My mother's on the other hand ..."

"Is special," she finished for me.

"Alright. We'll go with _special_."

I kept her in my sights as I opened the present the size of a ring box that she had given me.

"It's a tiny letter to keep in your wallet," she said, clearly worried I wouldn't understand or like her gift-choice. "You can unfold it and read it anytime/anywhere you need a reminder of how much I love you. And how much I, and now the boys, need and depend on you so you'll remember _NOT_ to get shot so I won't have a reason to go crazy."

"I don't need to remember that one. Once you get shot, you do whatever you have to do to avoid repeating the experience."

"I totally agree with you there ... having had a few bullet-encounters myself."

I remember one of her bullet wounds that I dressed myself. I'd mentioned her just needing a Band-Aid at the time to reassure her that she was alright, when I was really trying to tell myself that Ramos hadn't been successful in killing her. I don't appreciate having to remember all of the times she could have been killed, so I focused on the latest gift she has given me.

"You just pop open the wax seal and there's actually a tiny letter inside that little envelope. Did you see that I used 'M' as my initial? Because I really do see myself as a _Manoso_ now. Since it's so small, the letter comes with its own magnifying glass if you need ..." she continued on in a rush.

The envelope looked exactly like a shrunken version of one you'd mail, with to and from addresses and even an almost microscopic canceled stamp in the corner.

"It's okay, Babe. I can read it without help. And I did immediately read it with Steph's eyes never leaving my face. ' _To my husband, hero, and best friend,'_ her letter began. ' _I would say that my life is divided into two distinct time periods,_ _ **before**_ _I met you and_ _ **after**_ _, but truth is ... my life actually began with you just for what you've brought to it. I love you for loving me, for giving me our boys and a daughter with Julie, but mostly I just love you for the amazing man you are. Stay safe, because your kids and I can't - and don't want to - live without you. I'll love you always and call myself your wife for even longer than that. - Stephanie'._

I couldn't speak for a minute. I know putting her feelings into words still isn't a hundred-percent natural to her, so that she would choose this, something she wants me to carry on my body - all day, everyday - speaks louder than even her words could. I hooked a foot around the leg of her chair and slid her around the corner of the table and to me for a kiss. Her mouth parted under mine, and after a beat she left her seat in favor of sitting on me.

"I guess that means you like it?" She said, when I let her lips go.

"Yes. It'll be placed in its new home as you open your present. What you chose ties in nicely with mine."

"How so?" She asked, looking over at the box I'd put down near her plate.

The food became a memory at this point, even in her mind.

"We both wanted the other to have something to remember each other by when we can't be together," I answered.

She went still and her eyes honestly looked scared. "My little letter was only about us being apart while I'm with the boys and you're at work, or vice versa. _Please_ tell me yours isn't because you've been called in and are now leaving tomorrow?"

"Breathe, Babe. Only Tank has called me lately. I'm not going anywhere."

Her lungs literally deflated in relief before my eyes. "Way to scare the crap out of me, Batman."

"I'm sorry."

She took a deep breath to restore oxygen and calm to her body. "Don't be. I know what I signed up for just as well as you did. I just panicked for a second."

"That's understandable. Our twins would be challenging to take care of alone. They're already two handfuls and they aren't even crawling yet."

"It would be hard, but that wasn't what terrified me," she admitted.

"I know, Steph. That's why I risked Tank's mouth and the comments that'd come out of it, and decided on these as soon as I spotted them despite him being with me at the time."

"Now I _really_ have to open it," she said, getting up to get the gold gift box.

She didn't sit back down in her chair, she came back to my lap to open my gift. Her eyebrows went up as she looked down at the two wrist band bracelets sitting inside the box. I took them out and fastened one around her wrist and put the second one on myself. She stared down at the solid black band that had a raised area with indentations that brought to mind tire treads.

"Not that I don't like it, but this definitely isn't your usual jewelry choice," she pointed out.

"It isn't, but it does what your engagement and wedding rings can't."

"Oh, yeah? What do they do?"

"Thanks to an app ... whenever I think of you and want you to know that you're on my mind, I do this," I told her, laying my fingers along the raised part of the band, touching the two spots I needed in order to fully demonstrate why I bought these.

Steph jumped and stared at her wrist with her eyes opening wide and her mouth falling open.

"You can send me an actual wrist hug?"

"Yes. From as close to underneath you or as far away as halfway around the world. You can also send me one. Any time you think of me, just touch the band here and here," I said, showing her how to activate it, "and the one on my wrist will let me feel _you_."

"I'll warn you right now, if I touch this every time I'm thinking about you, it's going to be worn out and need to be replaced before March."

"Same here, Babe."

"Don't jump like I did, because I'm trying it now."

"Be my guest. I spoke with the man who created these and he was able to come up with something a little less bulky that would look less like a prison monitor."

"I've always known that you're a man of many talents, but I didn't picture designing jewelry as being one of them."

"It's not. I just know what you like and what you're willing to wear, and I started from there."

I felt a squeeze around my wrist, but I was too distracted by the smile she gave me and my gift to pay attention to anything except her. My hand was resting on her thigh, my fingertips tucked just under the lacy hem of her dress, but I purposely didn't initiate anything.

We had managed to engage in a few pleasurable activities when the doctor had given her the go-ahead, but Steph had still been a little uncomfortable ... and her being in _any_ kind of pain or discomfort isn't acceptable to me, so I put the brakes on myself. Not being with her has nearly killed me, but I want our time together to always be memorable for being incredible ... not painful in any way. I've held back and let her call the bedroom shots.

As I was taking her body into consideration, she was doing the same to mine, but with a different mindset. She didn't hesitate initiating anything tonight. Her arms curled around my neck and stayed there as she fitted her mouth tightly to mine. Our plans just changed again, because I'd bypassed hard ten minutes ago and she wasn't pulling away from me except to whisper " _Bedroom_ " against my lips. She immediately went back to kissing me, confident that I'd handle getting us up to our room.

Considering I've been thinking of and picturing this moment for weeks, I was just as confident in my getting us up and upstairs. My hand was already sliding under her dress to find the warm and damp skin underneath. I stood up with her and took the stairs two at a time. I only stopped kissing her to lay her on the bed. I carefully unbuckled her shoes and slid them off one by one, dropping them beside the bed.

Steph's brain was running smoother than mine, because she sat up to unbutton my shirt which allowed me access to the zipper at the back of her dress that she'd been lying on seconds before. Life exceeded good from that point on as the rest of our clothes disappeared. _Nothing_ feels as good as her bare skin pressed up against or under mine. I put time and the clock out of my mind as I let my hands and mouth roam freely over every inch of her body, reclaiming and loving it and her again, until I was sure she was feeling nothing except my obsession with her that needed to be fed once again.

It's clear that she's ready for this and for me. She widened her legs so I'd be flush against her as I slowly slid home. Maintaining my self-control was extremely difficult when she tightened her muscles and limbs around me, but I wouldn't let myself let go until she had come undone all over again.

My body was shaking, from my sweat-dotted brow down to her red-painted toes digging into the back of my calves, by the time my restraint snapped. I collapsed onto her and she held me close, our chests still pounding into each other's everywhere they touched. Steph shifted her hold on me just enough so I could feel a reassuring squeeze on my wrist. I know she's telling herself that we have to get up in a few minutes and go get our babies, but I also know she's still thinking about _me_.


	14. Chapter 14

**Everybody and anything familiar belongs to Janet. The mistakes, the Manosos, and the twins, are mine alone. Have a happy and safe weekend whether or not you celebrate the holiday.**

 **Chapter 14**

 **Ranger's POV**

"You know ... Ireland is a _loooong_ way from Cuba," Steph said in a drowsy tone.

She had every intention of folding the new vat of twin-laundry in the living room as the boys took their afternoon nap, but then _I_ happened. Tank dropped me off after a quick apprehension and I walked in to find her staring sightlessly as she folded a onesie without seeming to notice that she had something in her hands, let alone trying to do something constructive with it.

She did notice when I took the baby item away from her as I sat down on the couch beside her. I urged her head to rest on my thigh while I resumed folding duties ... both baby arms in, a bend at the waist, and a second fold to make the endless amount of them fit into the dresser near the dueling changing tables.

"It is," I told her, "but St. Patrick's Day is a holiday in my mother's eyes whether or not we have Irish blood inside of us."

"She does seem to like _any_ holiday that lets you use food coloring in everything to celebrate it."

"Would it surprise you if I told you that my mother almost stopped acknowledging the day?"

That got her head shooting off me, until I eased it back down again and started running my fingers through her curls that had been unusually left down today.

" _What!?_ Mama Manoso was going to purposely skip a holiday? _No way!_ I don't believe that for a second."

"It's the truth."

"But why? What did the day ever do to her?" She asked.

"It took the life of one of her best friends," I said, still hurting for my mother and feeling the pain she must have been experiencing back then, _still experiencing_ even now.

Having lost a number of friends over the years, some right in front of me with nothing I could do to save them, I know it's not something you ever fully recover from.

"What happened?" Steph asked, not lifting her head but moving her right arm so she was essentially hugging my legs as she tried to comfort me ... and likely comfort my family through me.

"Her friend, _Angel_ , was an avid cyclist. Twenty-seven years ago _today_ , Angel was struck by a car on one of her preferred routes and was killed instantly. My mother got the call from Aunt Tatty in the middle of her St. Patty's party-prep. As my mother told it, she was staring straight at a shamrock silently shouting " _Happy St. Patrick's Day!_ " as she learned of their friend's death from Tatty."

" _Oh God_."

"Yeah, it hit her hard. Her life had changed forever that day ... and not in any way anyone would want it to. She saw no reason to celebrate it again."

"But she obviously changed her mind ..."

"My mother is one tough lady. She was in an incredible amount of pain, but she didn't want us to also be hurting, so she pasted a watery smile on her face for us, got through the day somehow with none of us knowing anything was wrong, and promised to _celebrate Angel_ on March 17th instead of mourning her or _the loss_ of her."

"I've always wanted to be Grandma Mazur when I grew up, fearless and not giving a flying fig what anyone says about me, but now when I finally grow up, I definitely want to be _your Mom_. She really is an amazing woman."

"You already possess many of her enviable traits. You're intelligent, loving, empathetic, strong, and you both love food so much ... my own arteries say prayers for you."

She gently smacked my leg, but I could also feel her lips move into a smile against it.

"How long have the boys been asleep?" I asked her, hoping she'd say they just went down so she could have a nap herself before she has to do anything more today.

"Since about fifteen minutes after you and Tank left. Their guy-time with their Uncle Tank, getting to play airplane or be 'human gym equipment', tuckered them out. You know what asking that means, don't you?"

I nodded. It _was_ a risk to ask, but the comfort of knowing she'd be able to rest was worth the inevitable.

"It means Trey will be waking up within the next five minutes," I answered, "with Jamie following his big brother's lead."

This time _she_ nodded. "As your mom would advise ... don't get too comfortable."

The respect I have for my parents, my mother especially, has grown daily since the twins were born. _Knowing_ what she and my father survived having the six of us, all within a few years of each other, and _living_ their reality _myself_... are two entirely different things.

Not doubting the accuracy or timing of our boys, I didn't try to cajole Steph upstairs, but I did make sure she remained relaxed where she was until we heard Trey's unique yawn that immediately turns into a high-pitched sound similar to the word ' _help_ ' coming through the baby monitor Steph had beside her. That signaled to us - and to Jamie - that naptime is officially over for all involved. She sat up, and in one hand I got the basket I'd finished with and then took her hand in the other to offer her an assist to her feet.

She kept an arm curled around my waist as we climbed the stairs. "I was thinking ..." she began.

"You were supposed to be resting, not thinking, Babe."

"I can do both at the same time on occasion. After the boys are fed, and before we get them - and ourselves - changed to go to your parents' place, can you help me with something? With a quick call to Mary Lou, I bet she can tell me how to make my idea work."

"I'm here for whatever you need."

She gave me a smile for not hesitating a beat with my answer. I would've answered even faster if I'd known what she had in mind before she shared it with me twenty minutes later.

With that accomplished, we both got Trey and Jamie ready to roll ... which involved a lot of one-sided conversation between us and them, a fair amount of kisses placed to the miniature hands, faces, and feet, along with plenty of sound and sound effects. Afterwards, they got to stare with interest at the cars and planes circling above them as they sat in their bouncy seats while Steph changed clothes and then scrutinized mine.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" She asked me, clearly giving me a different body scan than I'm giving her.

She has on a flimsy looking green blouse with a high neck and see-through sleeves. Her black dress pants molded to her lower half so well, my hands were jealous. And I lost the shoe battle again, because her favorite black heels are already on her feet.

"I went with pants instead of a skirt this time," she said, noticing my eyes on her. "With these two, a living room floor-diaper change is possible, so I would've needed something with a high slit or flowy fabric for that to happen with a dress or skirt."

"I'm sorry to see those options shelved. It's a crime against nature to keep your legs covered up."

"You'll have them bare and all to yourself if Babe-Baby One and Two are feeling sleepy tonight. Now stop trying to distract me by flirting. You know the rules. Your mother purposely spelled out her instructions so you couldn't find a loophole."

"I'm wearing this. My mother will have to deal with it."

"I do see and agree that you wear head-to-toe black really well, but she said _everybody_ needs to have something green on."

"She couldn't get me to wear what she wanted when I was little and under her roof, and legally under her influence, so she knows telling me what clothes to put on isn't about to work now."

She sighed and then quickly grinned. I had the sudden urge to duck for whatever I was about to become a target for. I learned this was only an amusing false alarm as she unbuckled Trey while I got Jamie, and he and I followed his brother and mother down the stairs and into the kitchen. With one hand, she rummaged around the 'junk' drawer for a few seconds. The same hand raised in victory when she pulled out a green rubber band.

"I thought I dumped it in there, but with my current 'mom-brain', I wasn't a hundred-percent positive. It was wrapped around a wad of junk mail last week when we got more crappy mailers than any human needs. I hate throwing things like rubber bands or paper clips out because I always end up needing one at some point ... like today. Now you have your something green. Give me your wrist."

I didn't roll my eyes, but they did look heavenward for a brief moment as she made sure I was 'dressed' properly. The snap she gave my wrist brought me back to earth.

"Ouch," I deadpanned.

Her eyes made two rotations before she spoke. "That didn't hurt. You joke that gunshots feel like mosquito bites to you, having been shot so many times. Besides, I pushed two humans back-to-back out of a place _waaaay_ too small for them to use as a SLIP 'N SLIDE, so it'll take a lot more than the snap of a rubber ..."

She stopped mid-sentence when she realized a shot of 'Ranger-humor' is forthcoming. "There will be NO 'rubber' jokes in front of the boys," she warned. "And _do not_ think for a minute that I was suggesting you're allowed to go out and get injured now. You _aren't_. You can't complain about a paper-cut hurting, but I still never want you hurt from something even as minor as that."

"I'll be careful on all fronts, Babe."

"You'd better. I have to stretch my terror four ways now, with you and three kids, so I could snap at any minute."

"I'm not worried."

It's not a lie exactly. If _I_ keep everyone safe, sound, and happy, she'll have no cause to snap.

"You should be," she advised. "I may be easier to keep track of these days, but I'm still the same woman who has Hector and Raphael crossing themselves whenever they see me leave someplace without _you_ or _three of them_ following right behind me."

"They care about you," I told her.

"Yep ... their reactions have absolutely nothing to do with my ability to wipe out a small city on a slow day."

I admit, that factors into it too, but I'm not telling her that.

"Which is why I need my two little lucky charms with me," she said, looking down into each of our arms where the boys are enjoying the cuddling as they mostly held onto their favorite hand toys while we conversed.

She tickled each of their bellies with a gentle five-finger squish until she got two gummy grins and four dimples. The lucky charm reference had nothing to do with the cereal or the holiday exactly. With my mother's request firmly planted in my wife's mind, she had headed to the mall with a purpose and found something mostly green for both boys to wear today.

Trey was subjected to a white onesie with long sleeves, faux green suspenders, and a green tie printed onto it like the suspenders were. The tie had white four-leaf clovers placed at random intervals along the entire length of it. Jamie's onesie is green and made to look like a buttoned-up sweater, and his mock bow-tie had tiny gold horseshoes strewn across it. Which is why she's calling them her lucky charms today.

One of the many things that has always fascinated me about Stephanie, is she honestly believes that things like four-leaf clovers and horseshoes can attract luck, whereas I believe you make your own.

Complementary faux-jean sweatpants, and black with white sole sneakers that our babies have no need for, finished off their holiday outfits. I would never do a background check on my own mother, would never _admit_ to doing one anyway, but I wouldn't put it past her to have a secret baby clothes line specifically designed with the holidays in mind.

"Okay, Jamie and Trey, buckle up because we're heading back into Manoso territory," I heard Steph telling the twins. "You are going to be picked up multiple times, kissed continuously, and told you're cute so often ... you're going to want to learn to talk just so you can say ' _We know we're cute, look at our parents_ ,' but I know you both can handle it ... you're tough guys like your Daddy and Uncles after all."

"Babe."

"I'm just preparing them for the day/evening ahead."

"If anyone is used to my family by now, it's these two," I said, nodding and grinning at the brown and blue eyes gazing up at me.

Our babies stayed strong in the face of our family. Despite being a few minutes early again, we walked into an already packed house.

"What did I tell you, Carlos?" My mother said, instantly zeroing in on our children and my un-festive appearance, thankfully not much paying attention to my actual hands.

"I've got your back," Steph whispered to me, before facing Mama Manoso. "Your son took a minimalist approach to dressing up, but he _does_ have something green."

"A roll of hundreds in his pocket doesn't count," my little brother chimed in.

" _Jealous?_ " I asked him.

"No."

"Liar."

"I'm with Mama. I'm looking at you and I don't see any green," he pressed.

"That's interesting coming from a man who was lazy and just hooked a pair of green clover-shaped eyeglasses into his collar."

"They were seen first thing, so _I_ passed inspection."

"Ranger does, too. He's got green right here," Steph said, ready to end the battle for me by reaching for my rubber banded-wrist. " _See?_ "

I playfully tucked my baby-less arm behind my back. "I'm afraid you'll be tempted to snap it again if you get your hands on it."

"Now that you said that, I _am_ a bit tempted."

I don't believe her, since she kissed me instead of snapping the elastic. Of course, my wrist was well out of her reach, which _did_ help. As her lips pressed against mine, I lifted my arm up behind her back and showed my doubters that I _always_ show up prepared ... even if in this case, my wife is the one making sure I'm properly equipped for the situation at hand.

"Hah ... we beat you here, Aunt Steph," Mary Alice bragged as we were relieved of our boys.

Now that both of our hands are free, I got Steph's coat and my own off. I then put them away just to conceal what we'd brought with us.

"That's only because your help was needed," my wife shot back. "No one wants my decorating tips or assistance, so I got to stay home and sleep in."

Everyone knows that in our house, sleep has been reduced to just a memory for Steph and I, and the _expected_ \- and _understanding_ \- laugh was instantly given.

"Anytime you would like to add your two cents and some elbow grease to anything going on here," my mother told Steph, "you just pack those babies and my son up and come straight over. You _never_ need an invitation. You are welcome anytime."

Steph cut her eyes to me. "I just volunteered to be part of the setup crew, didn't I?"

"Depends how distracted she is with her grandsons. Your words may not have registered yet."

"I hear all, Carlos," my mother assured me. "Stephanie knows she can help out or just _show up_ and enjoy _the show_. Either one is alright with us."

"Wanna see what we did?" Mary Alice asked. "Mom made me help Lisa ... but it was still sorta fun."

Steph circled her niece's shoulders with an arm. "Kids aren't so bad when you get to know them. I'm betting you made Lisa's day by spending some time with her."

Mary Alice made a face. "She hugged me. _Three times_ before we were even done."

"Yeah, well ... I got peed on by your cousin this morning, so I win when it comes to unprovoked actions."

" _Ewww_ , what did you do?"

"I laughed, quickly toweled off with the hem of my t-shirt, and then put your Uncle Ranger in charge while I took a shower."

"He didn't mind?" She asked, glancing at me.

"Nope. He didn't," Steph answered.

"They are _my_ boys, too," I added, "which makes them my responsibility and also mine to care for.

That's when Angie joined the conversation. "Our Dad used to say that kind of stuff was _Mom's_ job ... because he just left _his_."

"Then he left _us_ ," Mary Alice said.

My family didn't want to say anything negative about the poor excuse for a man who barely fathered Angie and Mary Alice, but I could almost hear the ' _talking to_ ' they would all love to give Valerie's ex-husband. Val herself is looking like she isn't sure where to start when it came to addressing the damage Steve did to their daughters, what his absence from their lives continues to do.

Like the Wonder Woman Steph is, she got an arm around both girls and pulled them close, as if she were about to share a secret.

"Not all men are able to handle women like us," she informed her nieces. "Although it does hurt, you could say it's better for them to realize that and let us go so we can find the people who _can_ keep up with us, who'll make us better/ _happier_ people overall. I'm with you, I don't like how it happened, but we did get you two and your Mom back in Jersey, she met Albert - who really does love _all_ of you - and you now have Lisa looking up to you. And knowing your Mom ... God knows how many more siblings are still waiting in the wings."

"Let me guess, you're going to say that you don't mind not seeing Grandma and Grandpa as much anymore, because _you_ have Ranger, Trey, and Jamie," Mary Alice stated.

"I got lucky with them, didn't I? And all three of my guys, plus myself, want to see what you, Angie, and Lisa, did."

"You may need Uncle Ranger to get the boys back," Angie wisely pointed out, "for them to see anything besides faces and their toys."

Steph and I looked to where Trey and Jamie are lying on their Kick and Play mats. They have an assortment of Manosos surrounding them as our babies deviated between holding each other's hands, kicking the piano keys at the end of their floor-based activity centers, or slapping the dangling stuffed animals, rattles, and baby-mirrors, above them. In my opinion, seeing them playing is no different than watching Steph or Santos when they were stuck on multi-hour stakeouts and boredom got the better of them.

"Not that _they_ care what we did," Mary Alice said. "No offense, Aunt Steph, but all they do is kick their feet, grab each other's faces, or make weird noises that sometimes sound like cackly witch-laughs. I don't think they're interested in decorations."

"Hey, they _do_ care and _are_ interested. And don't knock your cousins' contributions," Steph told her. "They're providing music for the party. Who else gets two DJs for free for a family party?"

Valerie hugged her daughter to her. "Not that long ago, _you_ were only kicking, screaming, and laughing, yourself ... and look at you now. You're getting all As and Bs in school, you're the star of the drama club, and you run circles around Albert daily."

"That last one isn't hard, Val, even though Kloughn's a lawyer," Steph told her sister, moving to where our babies were busy playing. "But the rest, Mary Alice, _is_ impressive. You and Angie are pretty incredible almost-women. And your cousins will find anything you've done, especially here, impressive as well."

"You're taking our nephews away from us, aren't you?" Ophelia asked, clearly smitten when Jamie's hand closed around her index finger.

"Just for a few minutes," my wife promised, doing as predicted ... kneeling on the carpet to go nose-to-nose with our babies, which _would_ have been more challenging in a dress. "They have a tour to take. Don't we, Boys? See how excited they are?"

I couldn't deny it. Trey's kicking the keyboard so enthusiastically, he's producing a 'song' that could qualify as club music. And Jamie went from casually batting at the childproof mirror over him on his own mat, to trying to roll over to grab his Mama's face with both hands. They are excited, but the party or its decor has nothing to do with their current euphoria.

"They're reacting to _you_ , Babe. They become hard to hold onto whenever you're nearby."

"They just love life."

"They love you."

She scooped Jamie up while kissing Trey's nose. "The feeling is totally mutual. You get our little music man," she told me. "We want to see everything."

Mary Alice rolled her eyes, but she did take Lisa's hand so her little sister wouldn't miss out on any bragging opportunities.

"Okay, Girls, what's first?" Steph asked her nieces.

"You saw the front door, right?" Valerie asked her.

"Yep, I did," Steph answered. "I was tempted to steal a couple of the gold coins off the door, but I resisted the urge."

"I transplanted the clover into the burlap money-sack," my mother explained. "And Lisa and Mary Alice expertly decided where the gold coins should be placed so they'd appear to be spilling out of it. They even attached them themselves."

"The big cauldron-looking pot filled with real and fake clover and all the little green lights tucked inside it, is what I did," Angie added.

My parents nodded. "Angie even suggested it needed something more, so we went on a scavenger hunt and found a green top hat cut out of wood, glued a shamrock onto it, and painted 'Welcome' across the brim," my mother informed us.

"When Halloween rolls around," Steph said, "you all are coming over to our house to help me decorate for it. I want Jamie and Trey to have more than just a flattened witch on our front door."

"We've got you covered, Aunt Steph," Mary Alice promised.

"I believe these three are seasoned decorators after today," my father told us. "Your nieces even helped Rosina with the moss she wanted to use as a table runner. I was going to need some convincing to get my hands dirty, but Mary Alice, and then Lisa, stepped in."

"And Angie handled all the candles I wanted lined up along the middle of it. And she sprinkled more gold coins around the candles and over the moss."

"I mades the paper chains," Lisa proudly stated to her Aunt.

"You did? The green ones hanging above the table?" Steph replied, walking over with Jamie to inspect their handiwork closer.

Lisa nodded as did Valerie.

"What a good job you did. Look, Jamie," Steph said to our son, "it's a giant mobile like the ones over your chairs and cribs. How's Trey enjoying the art?"

"His brown eyes are doubling in size as he's looking around," I answered. "I feel comfortable assuming he approves."

Both boys were reaching out to try to touch everything they saw ... from the gold letters lined with pennies spelling out ' _LUCKY_ ' across any furniture that would support the weighty-word, to the heart-shaped Mylar balloons grouped together in threes to create green shamrocks throughout the downstairs. And they enjoyed the shiny/brightness of the green glass ornament/glass shamrock wreaths, along with the Rosemary trees decorated with appropriate but miniature St. Patty's day items ... such as gold horseshoes, pots of gold, Leprechauns, and the ever-present shamrocks. My mother had to add rubber snakes just to sneak in a bit of history on the Saint behind the day.

Steph and I were careful to keep a baby's arm-length away from the flower arrangements that combined green jelly beans and three clear containers ... a round tray and two straight-sided bowls of varying sizes for each one that were then filled with the candy to create green top hat vases for the white daisies my mother had purchased.

If our twins could crawl, there would be choking hazards everywhere we turned, but this year's ode to good luck ... we - and they - are safe, with them not being able to do more than look at not rolling green Irish hills, but instead ... endless green and gold decorations in a still-cold Newark, New Jersey neighborhood.

"We also helped with the pot of gold cake pops," Angie announced.

"All three girls did," my mother confirmed. "They also lent a hand to their Aunt Celia and filled the green pepper-shamrock's with my steamed and seasoned vegetables that go along with the Reuben and bacon dips."

"Mrs. Manoso said we don't have to eat the vegetables, but if we did try them ... we'll probably like them. She let us spray paint Oreos!" Mary Alice told us.

Steph raised her eyebrows at that one.

"It was _edible_ gold paint," Valerie assured her, "to make the cookies look like gold coins."

" _Ooohh_ , would you do another batch of those? I bet if I take them down to Stark Street, I could make some serious money. With the non-existent lightening and gritty eyes of those I've 'met' there, _no one_ would be the wiser for a good hour ... or well into morning."

"You're not going anywhere near Stark Street, Babe."

She gave a sigh more dramatic than the situation warranted just to make her nieces laugh.

"I try to help support our family and he shuts me down," she teased.

I didn't have to say more. My new nieces had the situation under control.

"It's not safe for you to go there, Aunt Steph," Angie pointed out. "Uncle Ranger just wants to protect you."

"Yeah," Mary Alice added, "and you really should let him."

Steph took her eyes off Jamie and cut them to me. "Great. You've corrupted my nieces. I'm now outnumbered."

" _Completely_ surrounded," I confirmed.

"There's only one way to make that up to me," she said.

Trey and I were both suspicious. "How?" I asked.

She pointed to a block sign positioned close to the egg tree, likely because its statement was how the members of this family, and the names on all the eggs, got started. ' _Kiss Me ... even though I'm not Irish_ ,' the sign demanded. I try to comply with the orders that suit me, so Trey rejoined his little brother as I kissed their mother.

"There they go again," Mary Alice said, with a small measure of disgust.

"Like father like son," Papa Manoso claimed, as he took advantage of the sign as well and kissed my mother in a way that had me feeling the same as Mary Alice's face indicated.

"Can we do something besides kiss each other? Or stand here watching people kiss each other?" Mary Alice asked.

She should know not to say something like that around her aunt, because Steph recruited Jamie and helped him plant an extremely drooly cousin-kiss on Mary Alice's cheek.

" _Gross!_ He just slimed me!"

"He slimed you with love, remember that. Now how about we check out the food since you're so against physical displays of affection."

" _You_ were, too, at one time," her niece pointed out.

"Your Uncle Ranger corrected that particular problem, so you may need to start hiding from your cousins and I."

" _The food_..." Angie prompted, likely as a distraction so she wouldn't get 'slimed' next.

It worked, as Steph and Jamie headed to the kitchen. Trey and I followed.

"This isn't the menu I was picturing," Steph said, mainly to herself as she curiously looked under pots and peeked into the oven when my mother checked the contents currently inside it.

I'd guess Stephanie's recalling the green food coloring conversation she and I had earlier.

"I felt like engaging in some cultural and culinary education, so I chose traditional Irish foods, not the Corned Beef/Cabbage adaptations of Irish cuisine," Mama Manoso explained.

"I'm all for learning new things if they involve food, but I will draw the line at Haggis."

"Conveniently, Haggis is _Scottish_ rather than _Irish_ , so I left it off the menu. I made a stew with Irish beef, and of course Soda Bread and Colcannon for sides, and I did try Boxty three ways ..."

" _Boxty?_ " Valerie asked.

"Finely shredded potato pancakes. One includes Irish whiskey and beef in a mushroom/cream sauce for the adults. I made two more _child-friendly_ versions using chili and beans, and another with chicken and smoked bacon. I also have Shepherd's Pie and Coddle to round out the Irish offerings."

" _Coddle?_ " Steph asked this time.

"A simmered dish made up of whatever meat and vegetables one might have left over in the kitchen. I see it as a lighter version of a stew."

"Count me in, though I was expecting there to be a lot more green and rainbow foods."

"If Julie were here," I shared, " _everything_ would have a rainbow on - or inside - it."

My mother smiled as she remembered last year, when Julie _had_ in fact tried to make everything a pot of gold at the end of some rainbow. No cookie, cake, or side dish, had been safe from my daughter's artistic attempts.

"Don't you fret ... the Girls, Valerie, and I, did have some fun with our food. We made those marshmallow cereal treats with Lucky Charms, cream puffs but we used green-dyed pastry dough. Lisa liked the shamrock crinkle cookie idea and the doughnuts that have Fruity Pebble rainbows adhered to the frosting. They helped Amalia with the Leprechaun cheese ball who's all dressed up with his jaunty green pepper top hat. I did a platter covered with a layered fruit rainbow and its waiting Rolo pot of gold. Plus mint chocolate brownies ..."

"I'm definitely not going to Stark Street or anywhere else," my wife stated. "It's like you saw inside my head when I'd been pregnant, and you just made everything I was craving over the course of it ... all at one time."

"Elias and I are already fighting over the brownies," Celia said, "but we will share with _you_."

"Only if I give up Jamie, I'm guessing."

" _Maybe_ ," Nola added. "If it'll help our cause, when we were putting everything onto plates, I saved all the stuff that didn't fit, or that Mama decided wasn't perfect enough for her family, and I made you a special trifle that has a little bit of everything stacked in-between scoops of vanilla ice cream."

"Yup, I am _definitely_ outnumbered and outmatched here, yet oddly enough ... I don't mind at all. But before we really get into enjoying all this food and everyone's hard work, your grandsons wanted to give their Abuela something," Steph said, turning to her mother-in-law and in-love, holding my hand in her free one after passing a Manila folder to Mama Manoso that I had quickly retrieved, instinctively knowing that my wife was about to need it.

This isn't the type of surprise my family is likely expecting, considering what we've subjected them to in the past, but my mother's immediate teary eyes reflected surprise, pain, but also the type of smile that caused goosebumps to form on all of us who are fortunate enough to witness it.

"How did you ...?" She began to ask, when she was finally able to speak.

"Ranger told me about your friend, _Angel_ ... and when I told Jamie and Trey all about her, they wanted to help make you something from her."

My mother's eyes stayed on the impromptu painting of the 'Angel' we did this afternoon, using a white handprint from Trey and another one from Jamie to make the angel's wings. The heavenly gown - or robe - this angel is wearing is double the size because Stephanie wanted to use a footprint from both of our boys to make this memento doubly special for the woman we both consider the greatest 'Mom' anyone can have. To make my wife the one my mother would side with in divorce proceedings, not that Steph or I would _ever_ allow that as an option, Stephanie had taken a metallic silver Sharpie and wrote " _An Angel Is Watching Over Me_ " above the twins' hand and footprint-angelic image.

My mother's emotions are currently so raw, in a good way this time, my wife and I agreed via a glance that we should wait to share that the real _shenanigans_ will be starting in about ten minutes, when Edna is driven over after inspecting - and approving of - her new apartment mere blocks away now. No one except Steph, Edna, Tank, and I, know that the Newark building's remodel has been, for the most part, completed, and with it ... Steph's strongest connection to the Burg will be severed. Her life and family are here now ... and Edna's move is proof of that.


	15. Chapter 15

**Having posted "Remember Me" for Memorial Day last year, Mama Manoso called dibs on the holiday this year. To keep with mine and Steph's feelings that everyday Heroes should be appreciated daily and never forgotten, the heroics of 'Ranger's friends' are 4 real recounts of 3 real life Soldiers and a real Marine. Frostdance, hopefully a certain party guest feels a little familiar. All recognizable characters or events belong to Janet. The food and most of the holiday themed items I saw online.**

 **Chapter 15**

 **Ranger's POV**

"Okay, Cutie One and Cutie Two are ready and are as anxious as their Mama to meet Daddy's friends."

I hadn't thought Steph would actually be excited when I told her about my family's annual pilgrimage and asked if she'd like to join us this year. I'd expected her to ask Ella or Celia to babysit the boys if she did come, but she did the unexpected. After feeding them, she got them dressed to join us in what she thought was fitting clothing for today. Sometimes I wonder just how much my mother has rubbed off on my wife. I love both women, so I tell myself I don't have to be concerned just yet.

Jamie's T-shirt had a pair of dog tags printed above the words _'My Heroes All Wore Combat Boots_ ' and Trey's read ' _Home Of The Free Because Of The Brave_ '. Stephanie is about as subtle as the other Mrs. Manoso when it comes to embracing a holiday. I don't begrudge people their long weekends full of barbeques and sales, mainly because Memorial Day isn't just _one_ day to me. I use _every_ day to acknowledge, remember, appreciate, and celebrate, those who've died helping to ensure others live.

As my personal and life goal, I continue to help the ones who thankfully are still here. But the men I served-and-survived with who made the ultimate sacrifice, I think about every minute of every day. Deciding on the right cause to extend their legacies and to keep their memories, spirits, and messages, alive has helped me deal with the loss.

Funding a children's cancer wing at a Newark hospital in Damon Pierce's name in honor of his little sister who has been fighting the disease on-and-off since she was five, is one way he's still making a difference. Having the shared passion of taking care of deployed and returning service members, and as many Veterans as we can 'recruit', Titus Aaro's name is listed as co-founder of _'Area Defense_ ', a company based on helping those reassimilate back into civilian life, providing assistance to deal with the now unfamiliar one they'll have, which includes health, family, and financial, support and guidance.

Jakobe Abbott being homeless for seven months before joining the service made that cause one he personally believed in, so the homeless - but not helpless or hopeless - shelter 'he' built has become a staple to the Chicago neighborhood he was lucky to have survived. Slate Hardwin was dubbed the animal-whisperer due to his always trying to get any stray we came across adopted in whatever hellhole we were sent to, making a no-kill animal shelter a no-brainer. His family now runs it ... not only to help the helpless, but to be closer to the man they all lost.

Trey and Jamie have clearly been prepped for the meaning behind the day. And their ' _We Don't Know You All, But We Owe You All'_ -inspired T-shirts, paired with knit, mock-cargo pants that are dark enough to hide any dirt they can't resist trying to play in, and the blue/gray baby-work boots, had them adequately prepared for the outdoors and mild temperature for this May in Jersey. I was almost more interested in what Stephanie had on.

"Did you choose a tank top proclaiming ' _Property Of An Army Ranger_ ' to warn anyone who stares too long at you that my training will kick in and I _will_ take them out for not keeping their eyes to themselves?"

"Being that we won't be encountering many strangers today, I wanted to look good for _you_ mostly. After a few weeks of realizing just skipping the ice cream or Pop-Tarts was way easier than trying to step over or around two mini-Rangers staging invasions of any room they're let loose in, I was feeling optimistic so I tried on my favorite pre-pregnancy jeans. For the first time since you last peeled them off me, I could button them. That victory in vanity had me wanting to wear them today even if they're still a little tight in the butt/hip area."

"Both look perfect to me."

She grinned and then shifted 'Cuties 1&2' in her arms so she could kiss me. "Then yes, yours is exactly the reason for choosing this top to wear. I'm yours and I want everyone to know it. For future reference, you can switch out that button-down or Rangeman tee for a T-shirt that has those two thumbs pointing inwards at you and shouts ' _This guy belongs to Stephanie!_ ' and I promise I won't complain at all. In fact, I'll buy one for you for Father's Day."

"I appreciate the thought, but I don't think a T-shirt is required. It's pretty clear who I belong to, Babe. If the wedding ring on my left hand and the ' _Taken_ ' one on my right don't give it away, the look in your eyes whenever I'm nearby, or the lack of one in mine when you're not around, says it all."

And depending on your philosophical views, you could say everyone we're going to 'see' know that she's mine and will understand in a much more profound way just how thoroughly I belong to Stephanie and our kids.

Steph got Jamie strapped into his car seat with a lot of laughing, tickling, and random face-kisses, and I secured Trey in a quieter fashion, but with just as many kisses and affectionate tones and touches. After Steph and I were ready to roll, I backed out of our driveway and saw that my parents were already packed up and are now on our bumper.

"There's no grass growing under your Abuela's feet, Boys," she said towards the backseat. "Tank probably just got to Grandma's and is busy crossing himself before he heads to her floor, and we and your parents are already on the road."

I shrugged under my seatbelt. "Tank wouldn't have offered to get Edna if he minded the company."

"He minded my company back when we first met, and he still had to schlep me around because you told him to."

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Babe," I said, raising my voice slightly to be heard over the animated conversation Trey and Jamie are having with each other behind us. "Tank and I were in the middle of discussing the possible opening of a Rangeman building in Trenton when Connie called and asked me to give you a crash course in bond enforcement. When I cut our meeting short in order to meet you, his radar went off. From that call until your first job with him, he threatened to find a way of meeting you if I didn't introduce him to the woman who hooked me. I didn't have to force him."

"You didn't have to force him _the first time,_ you mean. All the times afterwards, he actually appeared scared or pissed that he pulled Stephanie-duty."

I reached over and squeezed her thigh. "That's only because he has seen firsthand the number of ways I could and _would_ kill him if something happened to you after I trusted him to keep you safe."

"So it was _your_... umm _unique_... personality that he was reacting to, not mine?"

"Yes. I'm a bit scarier than you when provoked."

"No kidding," she told me. "You're scarily effective when you're sweet, too. I have two kids because of that."

"I believe _you're_ the one who spent Easter with my family and left wanting to expand our own to include more than Julie."

"Now that you mention it, that does ring a bell. Feel free to blame me anytime for pressuring or seducing you."

"I prefer to thank you for Jamie and Trey instead."

Against the leather headrest she rolled her head my way and gave me a smile reminiscent of the one I put on her face on Easter night. "You can do that, too. The boys are pretty great, aren't they? Though I think they're actually _louder_ than Lula and I were on our way to pick up an FTA."

"Contained in the car, their sounds and baby-talk may be amplified, but at least they're not attempting to take out the other with a toy or trying to Karate kick, eye-gauge, or mouth-hook, each other."

She laughed at how true my words are. "I know you're talking about our babies' idea of play, but that could apply to Lula as well, which is why I'm not her partner anymore."

She turned serious when I turned into the wrought iron/granite pillared entrance of the cemetery. It's become a place that gives me a sense of peace, but also rips my guts out all over again because the men I want to see should be in my car, not buried in here.

"They really should change the name of today," Steph said, likely feeling the emotional-shift in me. "There's nothing worse you can say than 'Happy Memorial Day' considering today is about remembering someone ... or in your case _too many people,_ you care about that you lost. ' _Remember Me Day_ ' would be better. Or possibly ' _Celebrate Them Day_ '. How about ' _We'll Never Forget You Day_ '? ' _I Miss You But I'm So Proud Of You Day_ ' could work, too."

I waited to reply to that until we parked and were getting the boys unbuckled so they can meet four men who would have made incredible Uncles to them. Even gone, they'll still influence our children with me sharing their stories, legacies, and unwavering sense of right and wrong. Trey and Jamie can learn from them even if they aren't physically here to help shape our boys into as honorable men as they were ... _are_.

" _Every day_ is a day of remembrance, Babe. Some people require far more than one day out of 365 to fully encompass the magnitude of what they've _done for_ and _given to_ others."

"That's why the boys and I are here. You don't talk a lot about the painful parts of your past, and we really want to hear everything about these friends of yours ... that is if our little guys will stay still long enough."

"And _that's why_ God created grandparents," my father told her, pulling what Steph calls their Ninja act, which is whenever they appear behind her without giving off any warning sounds,"so we can enjoy more time with our grandsons while giving you two a chance to talk."

"I thought I was here solely as the landscaper," my mother teased.

Steph looked at Jamie and I with a puzzled expression until we walked down a private path and she got hit with the full-impact of what the Manosos do for those we consider family.

"Oh my God, Mama M.," Steph whispered in awe, hiking Trey up out of habit as he wriggled to get free and start a new adventure with his little brother as one of Tatty's twin-eggs stated.

The city's National Cemetery commission wasn't thrilled when my mother laid out her plans to honor the men I call friends. My ensuring no-cost maintenance, not only for the plots of those special to me but also the entire cemetery, had Rosina Manoso's grave gardens turning into something to appreciate rather than fight. The commission or even the city wouldn't win a war against me and they realized that faster than others. I take care of my own, living or not, and I _will_ use everything at my disposal to support and back my family.

A four-inch tall border was outlining each of the four graves, and an American flag was created entirely from planted flowers in each of the contained spaces on all four graves. Red Begonias, along with white ones, became the thirteen parallel red and white stripes. And Ageratum created a corner-square field of blue which was the perfect backdrop for the evenly planted white Alyssum 'stars'.

"These men gave everything for our country ... their time, dedication, and even their lives," my mother said, "so even here inside this cemetery, they're showing what they died for, and making the world a brighter, more beautiful and peaceful place. I know they have made my life better - and easier in some instances - by watching out for my son. Nothing is as important to me than that. Although they know I appreciate every minute of their service to our country and others."

"That alone has me glad I got to come today to say thank you in person," Steph replied, "but I'd still love to hear all about who we're celebrating."

"They would have loved to have known you, Steph," I told her. "You refer to yourself as Rangeman's mascot/cheerleader, and everyone of these four I know would have 'fought' my company's men for the honor of having you be their biggest supporter."

"Our guys and yours are part of your life, so I can support them all with no problem. So what are you waiting for? Introduce me and our babies to your buddies."

"You three had better get comfortable then, because to accurately capture the spirit and importance of Jakobe, Damon, Slate, and Titus, is going to take time."

She got an arm around both Trey and Jamie and sat down by Titus' flower 'flag', not caring about getting dirty or damp by sitting in the grass. My words and mood, and the boys' attention staying in one place, was all that she cared about. Jamie and Trey, however, saw this outing as a chance to explore something on their level that's different than this morning's view.

How they were moving their dark-haired heads in every direction, with their eyes straining to take in everything new that they see, warned us of what is immediately coming. Their arms and legs acted as propellers to get themselves out of the protection of their Mama's arms and onto their hands and knees again, gaining their own freedom to check out whatever they find interesting ... _if_ they don't get distracted just playing with each other first.

"They really are like baby-versions of those water snake toys. You must've had those when you were a kid. Remember how they'd almost shoot out of your hand when you barely even squeezed them?"

"Only you," I told her, though I know exactly what she means.

The arrival of Tank and Edna, along with my parents trying to lure their grandsons to them by waving rattles, pinwheels, and miniature flags, in their direction so they'd ditch us, gave me a chance to appreciate history, mourn what's now missing, and continue to be grateful for what I have and who I've had in my life no matter the length of time.

Edna clearly doesn't believe in cajoling or bribery, she just bent down, quite limberly for someone in her late seventies, and scooped up Trey ... knowing from having watched them crawl across her apartment floors numerous times, Jamie won't be too far behind his big brother. Seeing our boys playing near where their never-met Uncles are lying, filled me with pride as well as sorrow at the enormity of what the world and my children lost.

Being able to move freely now and knowing the boys are being well looked after, Steph knelt down in the grass by the first grave, reading the name of a man I still can't believe was capable of being slowed down, never mind be gone forever before I could get to him.

"Okay, tell me about Titus Aaros," she said to me. "If you can tell it, I can take it. I promise."

She's strong, but she hurts hard for people. I found myself talking anyway. These men deserve to be applauded for their actions again today.

"Alright ... while acting as team leader, Titus and his men were ambushed by a well-armed insurgent force. They ran for cover and engaged the enemy. When Titus saw his squad leader go down, he exposed himself to heavy fire, withstanding hits to his body armor and secondary weapon as he dragged the injured man into deeper cover while providing medical aid to him and others who needed it, all the while periodically throwing grenades to conceal their exact location."

"I can't imagine being able to think clearly in that kind of situation, let alone save anyone."

"It's what we're trained to do. Don't forget, you've survived a lot and saved many people yourself, Babe. Titus probably would've called it a fun day, but when trying to locate everyone he started the day with, with shots still firing at them, he spotted two insurgents in the process of carrying one of our Soldiers away."

"Bet _that_ didn't go well for the bad guys."

"Titus killed one and severely wounded the other, and was already providing aid to the almost POW by the time the rest of Titus' squad caught up to him. That's one of the 'jobs' I can tell you about. There are plenty I can't."

Telling her he died by his own hand would be doing him a disservice. He saved friends and strangers alike, but couldn't save himself even when I was doing everything in my power to reach him, both in mind and location. I don't believe in regrets, but not being able to prevent him from ending his pain his own way is still a very open wound for me.

Once again, Stephanie was able to get my mind off the pain, by talking to Titus as if he's standing right here. Hell, knowing him ... he _is_ standing between us, making smartass comments about me becoming slightly domesticated, something no one saw coming ... not even me.

"There aren't words to say how much I admire you for what you've done for others," she was saying to Titus, "but what you obviously mean to my husband I'll never be able to repay you for. He doesn't let many people in, so I know just how special a person you are to have made his short list."

She kissed the tips of her fingers and then pressed them to the granite headstone. She blinked back tears before turning to me.

"Now tell me about would-be Trey/Jamie Uncle number two."

"Slate Hardwin was leading a dismounted movement that included several senior leaders. As they approached the Provincial Governor's Compound, Slate noticed someone walking too close to them. When the man made an abrupt turn towards their group, Slate spotted a bulge beneath the person's clothes. He put himself between the suicide bomber and one of the Brigade Commanders and then he rushed the asshole, using his body to propel the bomber away from the formation while ordering another member of the security detail to help him 'remove' the terrorist. When the suicide bomber fell under the force of the two men's 'insistence' he move, he detonated the vest bomb he was wearing, killing four and wounding many more."

"These stories are going from bad to so much worse," Steph said, her face losing some of its color as she tried to picture what no one can who hasn't lived it.

"Welcome to war, Steph. That bomb detonating caused another to prematurely explode from a second suicide bomber Slate hadn't yet been aware of. Luckily the second explosion, not being at the proper time or location, only killed the asshole wearing it."

She repeated the finger-to-stone kiss she had done for Titus, and gave a similar 'thank you/I appreciate you' speech to Slate. By the time I made it to Damon, I was able to speak without a prompt.

"Damon Pierce was providing precision sniper fire from the lead helicopter during assaults on a building and two helicopter crash sites, while being the target of intense weapon fire and RPG attacks themselves. As they were covering the second crash site, Damon and his team leader learned that there were no available forces to secure the area. So he volunteered to protect the four men reportedly injured there."

Steph's arms came around me. Offering physical as well as emotional support. "Why am I not surprised that someone you call a friend would sacrifice himself for other people? That's a rhetorical question, Tank," she said, when he looked over. "I already know the answer."

"After three offers to be inserted, Damon and Brent - his team leader - were granted permission. Debris and ground fire had them aborting the first attempt, but not being men who give up ... Damon and Brent were eventually dropped one hundred meters South of the intended site. Equipped with only his sniper rifle and a pistol, they had to dodge enemy fire while fighting their way through a dense maze of shanties and shacks to reach the downed and critically-injured crew members. When they reached the crash site, Brent and himself were in imminent danger as they moved the injured four to a location that would be easier to secure and protect. And protect the men he did ... up until the moment he ran out of ammunition and was fatally wounded."

Steph was wiping away tears at this point, and Tank turned away for her benefit as well as his own.

"You know ..." she said to me, "you think you have an idea of what's happening overseas from the couple of clips the news channels decide to show, until you learn from someone who can explain what a 'typical' day is like for all of you. I know the phrase ' _hurry up and wait_ ' is a popular one, but to me it feels like it should be changed to ' _hurry up and then wait to be killed_ ' sometimes."

"I'm still here, Babe. As is Tank. And you know my buildings are full of men who also survived."

"I'm so thankful for that," she said, as she tracked Trey's air aerobics that Tank is now assisting him in, while she smiled at Jamie's constant grab for Edna's glasses. "I wouldn't have those two and Julie, or a group of great friends, without you. As grateful as I am, I hate that there is a need for a _Memorial_ Day because I can only say ' _Thank you', 'I appreciate you',_ and ' _I will think about you everyday_ ' to people who aren't here anymore who really should be. The only person close to me that's died is Grampa Harry ... and he had a pretty long life that he seemed content with."

"I would say it gets easier, but in some ways ... the opposite is true. Coming here on the holiday does help, though. Thank you for packing up the boys and coming with us."

She gave an adorable snort. "Like I would have passed up the chance to learn more about you while getting to meet four more of your buddies? You would've had to Gorilla Glue my butt to one of the nursery chairs to keep me home."

My soul felt a little lighter, knowing she really isn't kidding. If I hadn't invited her, she and our boys would've crashed the party minutes behind us because this ... _these men_... mean that much to her.

"I'm probably going to start crying outright any second, but what about Uncle number four?"

"Jakobe Abbott was maintaining security at a patrol rally point while his team moved on foot with two members of the Afghan National Army and Border Police for a pre-dawn meeting with Village Elders. They were ambushed by more than 50 enemy fighters shooting RPGs, mortars, and machine guns, at them from houses and slopes above them. When Jakobe heard over the radio that four U.S. Team Members were cut off, his own team member took Jakobe's position as gunner, and the two headed out to try to locate the trapped team."

"I'm guessing a simple GPS search wouldn't have worked."

I leaned over and hid a sad smile in the curls of her ponytail. "No, it wouldn't have. Their vehicle became the sole target for the enemy, but with the mounted machine gun he did kill a lot of them, some at point-blank range with his rifle. He and his gunner made multiple solo trips into the ambush area. With just the first two runs, they were able to evacuate almost thirty Afghan Soldiers, most of whom were wounded and would have died had they not stepped up and attempted what anyone else would've said it was just a suicide mission."

"But he didn't see it that way, did he?"

"He wouldn't have been able to live with himself if he didn't try to get that team out. When one machine gun became inoperable, he ordered a return trip to their original rally point to get another gun-truck, where their firepower helped the remaining US personnel and Afghan Soldiers who were still fighting their way out of the initial ambush. Jakobe had received a serious shrapnel wound to his arm, but he still managed to make two more trips into the ambush area with a third gun-truck and four Afghan vehicles to recover more Afghan Soldiers and missing U.S. Team Members, while continuing to be under constant fire. At one point, he even dismounted and went on foot to recover the bodies of his team. The fight lasted six hours, but he still saved many lives that day."

"And one could say his bravery led to a positive public-relations moment if he inspired other forces to join him in the rescue."

I tugged her up and hugged her just for having such a unique way of looking at things, and for really seeing people ... and who they are inside, not caring about the exterior. Though I'm glad that she thoroughly enjoys _my_ exterior.

Steph's blue eyes had moisture freely spilling out of them, not being able to hold the flow of tears back anymore, yet they're also filled with pride. She may have never met these particular friends of mine, but she still feels a connection with them through me.

When she could speak, I wasn't disappointed. "You know all of this and so much more, yet you still tease me for calling you a Superhero? Take it from someone who could've aced a course on the Justice League, those four stories - and your friends - deserve some Superhero-worthy praise."

"They were just doing their jobs, Steph," I told her, as proud of them as she is, while knowing just how uncomfortable they'd be with our adulation.

As if her mouth was magnetically drawn to mine, she kissed me. "The fact that you said that, and believe it about yourself as well, makes me love you so much my chest hurts."

I didn't know how to respond appropriately to that, but she wasn't finished disarming me.

In both of her hands, she grabbed mine and snagged Tank's as he was passing by, and tried to tune out everything around us except the twins.

"I know today is a day to pay tribute to those who are gone, which should be _everyday_ if you ask me. I mean ... if you can remember to get a cup of coffee every morning, you should remember to thank everyone who fought, and those who died, so you can continue to have that luxury ..."

"Take a breath, Steph," I told her, seeing the color now rise in her face instead of disappear from it.

"Uh ... sorry. I veered down Rant Road. I just flashbacked to all the 'End Of May' barbeques my mom hosted, yet I didn't know what Memorial Day really was until I was old enough to learn about it in school. I thought it was New Car Day until I was six. But what I was going to say is ... although this day is about the ones who ' _went home too soon'_ as our Mama Manoso would say, I can't help but think of today as a way of celebrating people like you, too."

"You _celebrate_ me everyday, Babe."

Tank wanted to roll his eyes, but he understood. I don't want this to turn emotional. A quick recount of the heroics of our friends, I can do. Having to see another frame-by-frame mental video of their deaths, I'm still not up to, so I went with playful to keep the conversation on the lighter side.

Steph saw right through that. "Don't worry, I know you want to remember their lives, not think about their deaths. I'm not pressing you for anything until you feel ready to talk about what you're not saying here ... then I'll listen with _four_ ears, not just two."

"What did you mean about celebrating men like us?" I asked.

" _Hey!_ " She mock-exclaimed, taking her hands back to give me a gentle finger-poke. "Don't forget the _women_ like you, too."

As usual, even a dark discussion she can breathe white light into.

"I would never exclude them," I promised her. "Now ...?"

"I'm not an expert on Military Men or Women ..."

"You know enough," I told her, with Tank nodding an agreement.

"Thank you, but I don't know near enough for my liking, but anyway ... my point is that the minute you were sent away to war, you had to kiss the old you goodbye because you were never going to be the same person again. Even though you survived, the boys/men you both once were ... were killed in a way by what you saw and had to do. So I think it's fair to also use this holiday as a way to acknowledge and mourn the life you had once upon a boot camp, without forgetting to applaud the amazing men you are right now ... not only for living, but also for not letting the memories, actions, and lives, of those you lost die with them."

"I fought too hard to be who I am. I'm not sorry the old me is dead," I said without bitterness.

I accepted who I've become a long time ago.

"Well I'm sorry for _your_ sake because I know what you still go through even with that acceptance. But I'm madly in love with the father of my babies, and I consider you, Tank, the protective brother only the very lucky get to have, so I can't wish too hard for a different life for either of you because I wouldn't change a single thing about the men I'm standing between. I know some days are a lot harder than others, but that just makes me admire you both more for continuing to hang on for all of us who love you."

"If I kiss her, you'll shoot me?" Tank asked.

" _Yes_ ," was my immediate and automatic answer.

Knowing it'd only be a flesh wound if I did, he gave her a peck to the cheek in a 'thank you for understanding' gesture before trying to take Jamie from Edna. He knew my mother won't be giving up Trey without a fight now that she finally got him away from my father at a time Trey wasn't too interested in the grass, ground, or flowers.

Among the botanical adaptations of our flag, while keeping us and the twins in her periphery, my mother sunk miniature black flags into the soil. The color is as somber as the words written in white across the black fabric ... ' _Our flag does not fly because the wind moves it, it flies with the last breath of every person who died defending it.'_ I've told her in the past that she doesn't have to be so ... _aggressive_... in her support of people like me, but as expected when it comes to this particular subject, she completely ignored me and continues to outdo herself every year.

Having six children, and now three grandchildren, still hasn't entirely filled the space she has in her heart set specifically aside to care for others. Having children, to her, meant everyone we befriend or care about become extended members of our family to be loved accordingly. Men who have enriched and prolonged my life, hold a special place for her.

Mama Manoso won't let a day go by without acknowledging those who either helped me return to her, or who helped keep me in one piece when I was home. And it makes my gut twist at how much Stephanie is like her in regards to me. It's one thing to hear that someone loves you ... it's another to literally feel just how much they do every single day.

"Come back over here, Jamie," Steph called to our son. "Daddy and I miss you and Trey."

You wouldn't think the twins would understand what she's saying, but Jamie did pause on his hands and knees and aim his blue eyes back at us. He then pivoted his body when Trey wriggled down my mother's side to get back on the ground. The sound of their private discussions and diapers crinkling as they moved, while Warblers sang their relief that Summer is almost here, added an innocently-sweet side to what I feared would be a painful day of introductions. The boys, like Steph, are good at seizing _a mood_ or _a moment_ and making it theirs.

Trey hustled knees-over-elbows to the lovingly-maintained flowers my mother is in charge of, and Jamie lit out after him. At that moment, it felt more like a family reunion than an 'I'll never forget you' moment. My mother helped promote that ' _we'll always be family_ ' feeling. Being in a cemetery didn't alter her usual party plans. Just because the Guests of Honors may be watching from above, they're still going to be celebrated like they're still here with us, because they are. The men I've served with and will forever refer to as friends are vividly alive in my mind, my heart, and in every corner of the soul Steph helped me reclaim. Some spirits are impossible to kill.

My father, Tank, and I, had carried three packed coolers from the back of my mother's Christmas present, over to the area closest to where I'd arranged to have my blood brothers buried. We fought together, raged and laughed together, and in life and death we'll remain together. I'd made the mistake of saying something similar to Stephanie, and she was quick to stake her claim by saying the spot next to me is forever taken ... _by her_. I refuse to even consider her not being in this world, or her having to live without me, but I did make sure she and I will also always be together.

Mama Manoso and the _Mrs. Manoso_ that is my wife, apparently felt the same way I did ... that this is a day about honoring men I would've died for, remembering the incredible people they are, and introducing my wife and boys to a less known part of me. As my mother started unpacking the food, Steph picked up Trey and Jamie and then put them back down so they could crawl/stop-crawl on the blanket she had spread out on the grass.

As has been their habit, Trey took off in one direction while Jamie headed in the one with the most family. They rejoined each other a few minutes later after some high-decibel communication between the two, where an obvious decision had been made on whose adventure is a better one. The blanket we provided was more of a 'suggested' boundary for our little men than a definite one. Santos teased that we should change to motion detecting lights for the house, switch off every other light source, and just kick back and enjoy the show once we released the twins. Having been on stakeouts with both Stephanie and Santos, I thought I understood constant motion until Jamie and Trey figured out how to crawl. They've been moving ever since.

"Tank," Steph said, not taking her eyes off our boys, "if you'll be on namesake-watch and, Ranger, you keep an eye on Jamie, I'll help the Grandmas set up the cemetery concession stand."

"We've got them, Babe. Help with the food or just relax and commune with nature and the residents here, we have you covered either way."

She slid her body close to mine and wound her arms around me as if she couldn't physically stay away. "I've already been talking to your friends. You didn't say anything about your 'working relationship' with them, but just knowing that you've been in similar situations, and you and Tank were either the ones saving someone or had somebody backing you up, has me more thankful than ever that people like you exist."

"With those like you in our corner fighting for us so we don't have to anymore, makes _us_ the lucky ones," I told her.

Tank picked up Trey and held him up so they were face-to-face for a man-to-baby talk. "If your parents keep it up, you and Jamie will have a new brother or sister by this time next year."

"Don't make me punch you, Tank," Steph told him, waking over to the two to kiss Trey and give Tank a nudge. "Trey, your name is similar to _tres ..._ for ... a ... reason."

Still holding our son, Tank stepped out of the immediate danger zone before unwisely speaking again. " _Exactly_. It sounds to me like you made up your mind to have _tres_ babies with Ranger."

She took a menacing step towards the grinning man and baby, but my mother is always on the lookout to prevent unnecessary pain to anyone.

"Stephanie dear, we're not going to hurt Pierre, are we?"

"Yeah," Edna chimed in, "be nice to him. He's my ride home and he already promised to take the longer, scenic way back to my place after buying me one of them fancy caramel whippuccinos."

That is enough of a punishment in Steph's eyes. If she got her grandmother hopped up on sugar, keeping her content and quiet inside a vehicle would be a huge undertaking ... one we've already lost with our boys. So she kissed our baby again, playfully elbowed Tank, and then went to help my mother.

This isn't a normal party location for anyone except our family, so Mama Manoso knew what type of food traveled the best out of her most-loved recipes. Among the choice of main courses were spaghetti casserole ... one of Jakobe's favorites. Picnic fried chicken to pay homage to Titus' Southern roots, and two overnight Muffuletta sandwiches, which is something Damon would playfully 'beg' her to make him in lieu of a gift on every birthday.

Zucchini slices that were filled with hummus and marinated vegetables and then rolled into cigar-shapes, had been added to the menu so I wouldn't 'complain' that there weren't any healthy side dishes. To make a point big enough to stick you with, she also included a citrus salad with spiced honey dressing and another salad ... this one made from oranges, red onion, and chickpeas served inside lettuce cups.

To keep Steph's blood sugar stably high, and to offset the salad station ... sugar cookie 'pizzas' topped with fruit were there for the taking if she beat Tank, my father, and Edna, to them. The broccoli and cheese cornbread is a staple on Memorial Day, because Slate used to make a beeline for my parents' place for 'his treat' - as he called it - for making it home from another deployment. To wash everything down, with this not being a holiday in my family set aside for drunken firework displays that likely would've hurt the departed depending how and where they died ... berry enhanced sun tea was made and then made portable by filling individual mason jars. Homemade lemonade was also made and pre-frozen so it could help keep the food cold while providing a refreshingly cold drink even as it melted.

I'd offered to help my father unfold the outdoor furniture they'd brought along, but he waved me away ... seeing how content Jamie had become using my arm from elbow to wrist as his own personal hammock. Tank mirrored the action with Trey, and the four of us watched the man who'll likely be known as _Papi Manoso_ when the boys can talk, set up a small table just for the terra cotta pot which was pre-lined with foil and filled with charcoal that would be lit a little later and used to toast marshmallows for S'mores for those who wanted a more traditional outdoor dessert than the cookie pizzas or the individual lattice-topped blueberry, cherry, or apple, pies my mother can't resist making every year.

It was her way of subtly adding red, white, and blue, to the day as if she doesn't already have that covered with the grave flower flags, Americana everything on the Fourth, and her special Veterans Day flag cookies.

All our plates were soon piled high, four were even made and placed beside the graves of our Guests Of Honor. And about ten minutes after we hit plate with our forks or napkins, we heard someone singing with definite abandon, along with a fiddle accompaniment ... not a ' _Happy Birthday_ ' or a fitting ' _Knocking On Heaven's Door_ ', but something that made an obvious statement. The booming voice came through loud and clear, yet we couldn't see the man behind the music. That caught Steph's attention but she had to corral the twins, who've become thoroughly fascinated with the already green grass and how it felt against their palms, before she could go investigate.

The entire time we were trying to eat, Jamie and Trey would take turns crawling a foot away from us and the white star/blue-backed picnic blanket, making a hands and knees rocking-stop before they'd plop back onto their padded bottoms and clumsily reach for chubby fistfuls of grass. Steph, I, or Edna, had to run interference between the green strands Jamie or Trey managed to pluck from the ground and their expectant little mouths.

"I admit," Steph said, during a lull in the activity, "outside of Metallica, I'm not a music expert, but I totally approve of that song's hook."

I grinned and curled an arm around Trey's body, setting him back between the two of us where he'll momentarily stay out of trouble.

"It's an old Irish drinking song ... ' _Haul Away Joe_ '," I informed her.

" _If only_ it were that easy to be rid of Joe. Wait ... how do you know about Irish songs?" She asked me.

"I've spent my career around a lot of men from a lot of different backgrounds. Anything involving drinking, women, or pizza, they unfortunately shared."

Not only is Steph curious, as the song continued I could clearly see my mother inching in the direction of the baritone. Anyone who can turn any event, even what should be a somber one, into a party ... she will make it her business to know. Her eyes darted to the right with every other word of the song.

At the line ' _We'll haul for better weather_ ' I put her out of her misery. "Go ahead, Mama. Introduce yourself and invite him to join us. We all know you want to."

"Are you sure?"

I was sure even before I heard a laugh so full of life and volume, it had me contemplating a grin myself. The fiddle playing stopped only momentarily before a new song ... ' _The Wind That Shakes The Barley_ ' ... began.

"He's about as Irish as you are Cuban," I told my Mama. "And considering he's busting out a song as well as a fiddle in the middle of a cemetery on Memorial Day, I have a feeling you're about to meet your celebration-counterpart."

"She'd better not," my father piped up. "I stood at the altar decades ago and had her promising from that day on that _I'm_ her partner in _everything_ for the rest of our lives. There isn't room for a _counterpart_ who isn't me."

My mother patted his arm sympathetically, but I saw the smile on her face. One thing I noted growing up ... is that she likes being loved vocally as well as unconditionally. I used that knowledge years later when I found my own everything-partner to steadily wear Stephanie down with my attention, protection, and my _no-strings but I'd like some_ 'I love yous'. My Babe has always wanted me, but I needed her to want to love me as well.

"I'm nosy, so count me in," Steph said, picking up Jamie and cuddling him close as I wrangled Trey so he couldn't desecrate anyone's graves. "I'm ready if you want me to provide backup for your meeting with the guy giving us a free concert."

"After you, Ladies," I told them.

My father, Tank, Trey and I, followed close behind the three women and an excited Jamie if his flailing limbs are an accurate indicator of his feelings. If he's like his Mama, they are. Hand gestures are a definite gauge of Steph's mood.

We didn't have to walk far from our picnic spot. The paved but purposely narrow road ran up a slight hill, and when we made it to the top we rounded a small copse of trees that acted as a natural barrier between the gravesite I'd reserved for the absolute best of the best and the plots behind us.

We spotted an older man sitting in a portable ' _In case I find myself stuck outside_ ' seat, raising a flask high in the air in a salute to the grave he's seated in front of.

I took in the Navy ball cap he had on as his eyes went briefly to the words on Steph's top. That I didn't feel I had to hurt him for looking below her blue eyes, spoke to how brief the glance was.

" _Army?_ " He asked me before anything else.

"Not just any Army," Steph said for me. "He's my _Army Ranger_."

That earned her a nod and us an outstretched hand. "Name's Tom."

His instant friendliness propelled my mother into action. "I'm Rosina. And this is my husband, Maurice, my son Carlos, his wife Stephanie and her grandmother Edna. Pierre is all of ours."

Tank barely restrained a groan, but Mama Manoso caught it.

"Don't you dare make a face at me, Pierre. I will _NOT_ call you _Tank_."

She was the one to make a face then. At first it was a ' _Don't mess with me_ ' mom-look, followed by one that was so full of love ... everyone felt it.

"And these are my beautiful grandsons, Trey and Jamie."

"You married?" Edna asked Tom.

Clearly her head has already been turned by what I know she'll say later is an extremely handsome face, that comes complete with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, quick smile, and undeniable zest for life.

"Grandma, we just had this discussion before you moved to Newark," Steph told her.

"You told me to lay off Tank and Ranger's men, you didn't say nothin' about random studmuffins we bump into."

Steph lifted Jamie, kissed him, and then nestled a kiss into Trey's now sticking straight up hair. "See, Boys? You're going to have a heck of a time trying to watch your Great-Grandma Mazur. She's more than the two handfuls you guys are. I would say nice to meet you," Steph said, turning Jamie and herself towards Tom, "but if you're here ... I'm so sorry because it means you've lost someone."

"When you get to be my age, you start reading the obits like they're sport stats ... and your team either won or just lost."

Edna moved her dentures around in her mouth, making a distinctive clicking sound. "You tell 'em 'ol Tommy boy. I ain't dead, but when I am ... I'm sure gonna put the _**F U**_ in funeral."

He tipped his head back and laughed so hard, I was momentarily concerned headstones would be shaken loose.

"Grandma ..." Steph said again, this time using her newly developed mom-tone.

"Don't you worry, we're just having a bit of fun," he relied instead of Edna. "Ya know what they call a funeral ship?"

Steph cringed. "I know I'm going to regret asking ... but what are they called?"

"A _sea hearse!_ " He answered, with a knee-slap accompanying the punchline.

"Oh brother," my wife said under her breath.

"Wait until I try that one out on Thursday at Myrtle Bayner's wake," Edna chimed in.

"Having been a Homicide Detective for a number of years before retirement caught up to me, you learn to laugh at death or you'll end up buried up to your eyeballs in it. And if I 'lost' anyone as you say, I'd be able to track them down anywhere, anytime. Unfortunately, I can't knock back a few with any of them anymore, but I can toast them with some Jameson from here."

"That's almost our family's motto," Steph told him. "Along with _everyone_ has a story that needs to be told and toasted."

"Babe ..."

"What are you Babe-ing me for? From what I just heard about them, I bet your buddies would appreciate and grin at a whiskey-salute."

"And the Manoso family appreciates anyone who celebrates their loved ones with unapologetic enthusiasm," my mother told Tom.

"Or loudly celebrates _everything_ ," I added.

"When you've seen what I have," he replied, "you learn to appreciate the living as well as make friends with the dead. Both don't let you sleep at night."

"I'm guessing you have as many 'legends' as Ranger does," Steph told our cemetery-neighbor.

"Do I have a story for you! It involves a B-52, problematic engines, and the Bermuda Triangle. If you have an interest in law enforcement, I've gotta few bustin' heads tales, too."

"To say we have an interest in enforcing the law would be a massive understatement. Looks like you and Mama Manoso may have 'enjoying a good party' in common, but you and my husband here could probably talk for hours about your similar career paths."

"I don't live far," Tom told us.

Those are the wrong words to say.

My mother immediately pounced. "Then you must come see how my family really celebrates. The rules we 'must adhere to' here have toned down how we normally spend our time together."

There is that contagious laugh again. It was indentifiable enough that a laugh-lineup would get the DA a conviction. This time I did smile down at Trey, who bestowed a gummy grin onto the Irishman who inspired it.

"You supply the whiskey or Guinness, and I'll provide the entertainment," was Tom's reply.

Steph and Jamie glanced my way. I shrugged. If he wants to jump on this family-grenade, who am I to stop him? My mother and Edna, on the other hand, smiled while my father just shook his head at his wife adopting yet another person who if she has her way will become a regular visitor to the Manoso homestead. Only _if_ he and his credentials check out, I told my mother with my eyes landing on hers.

"It's a deal," Mama Manoso told him. "I should warn you that my son will have run multiple background checks on you before that happens."

Tom's stare met mine over Trey's double baby boot-grab and ' _Ahhh goo_ ' noises. An understanding was reached between us. Men like the two of us stick together. He may have been a Navy man instead of a Ranger, but he dedicated his life to protecting others while in the service, and then in his community once he got out, which deserves its own thank you. Morelli spent time in the Navy and also became a detective, but in one look I saw the clear difference between the two.

I'd guess Joe used the Navy as his 'get out of jail free card' and became a detective just to gain respect he doesn't deserve. The other difference between the two men - aside from Tom _is_ one, while the other remains a spoiled brat, is I've never heard of Joe missing, mourning, or thanking, others he's served or partnered with. If Steph gave a fuck about receiving it, she'd _still_ be waiting for her share of the credit for solving the cases he used or endangered her for. That we met Tom _here_ in a cemetery on the type of day that has people flocking to the beach, on a holiday dedicated to others, speaks to his character.

"I would expect nothing less," Tom answered at my nod of acceptance.

"Good. That's settled," Mama Manoso declared. "Now let's raise a glass or flask to those who truly deserve a toast ... and then you can come join our memorial picnic if you're not expected anywhere for a few minutes. It seems I made too much food."

"Like _that's_ a surprise," I commented, earning a 'be nice' eyebrow-raise from Steph.

As we raised the shots of Jameson Tom generously poured, I said a silent ' _Thank you_ ' to those I knew who I will _never_ forget. Some gave all, and some of us now have it all because of them.


	16. Chapter 16

**Everybody and anything familiar belongs to Janet, mistakes are mine alone. The food and gift ideas, I saw online and just changed to fit what Ranger or Steph wanted.**

 **Chapter 16**

 **Ranger's POV**

"Breakfast in bed is served!" I heard Steph call out.

I walked out of the living room where I'd been suggested to wait while I anticipated my surprise.

"Babe, it's called 'breakfast _in bed_ ' because it's supposed to be eaten while _still in bed_."

She paused in her plate-fussing to kiss me. "Yeah well, with two Energizer Bunnies not understanding 'Sit/Stay' or even a desperate ' _Please, please, pleeeease ... just stay in one spot for a second so Mama can finish this_ ', had you been still in bed, breakfast may have never reached you. Or you could've ended up wearing half of it as I got everything and everyone in one spot."

"I told you I'd watch them if you were determined to spoil me," I reminded her, blocking Jamie's path out of the kitchen.

A baby-proofed house makes the matter of their safety sound handled, but our boys can turn a washcloth into a weapon if given enough time to figure out the quickest way of accomplishing it.

"What did you tell me on Mother's Day?" She countered.

Knowing what answer she's after, I stayed silent and just remembered how sleepy and sated she looked after I realized she was awake far earlier than either of us expected that day. I celebrated the mother of our babies in the same way I helped her become one. With a very satisfied smile of my own, I told her it was her day and not to move beyond slipping my shirt onto her body as we heard Trey's usual ' _Morning ... come get me. I'm up!_ ' sounds flow through the monitor.

"I can tell by the look in your eyes, you know exactly what you said to me," Steph is saying now. " _And_ I'd guess you're also replaying the enjoyable activities that proceeded you telling me not to move because you were going to handle the boys."

"You'd guess right. It's become one of my favorite memories."

"So if I got to enjoy my guy in bed before our little guys joined us, literally eating up your love as you spelled out the four-letter L-word with some of my favorite breakfast foods, you should get the same kind of treatment today. Who'd think to make an 'L' using mini cappuccino muffins, getting me a Boston Cream doughnut for an 'O', and purposely making me a heart-shaped chocolate chip pancake for the 'V'? Though _I know_ who'd create an 'E' by lining-up blueberries. You do try to sneak a fruit or vegetable into my food anytime you can."

"My mother _'hinted'_ that I should do something memorable for you for your first Mother's Day with the boys, that should include some of the things you love. So you had me and our boys with you, a shadow box Julie made beside you that reminded you that to her - and _all of us - 'You are braver than you believe, stronger than you think, and loved more than you'll ever know_ '. _And_ you had your favorite morning junk food in front of you."

"Yep, it was hard for the day to go wrong after a start like that. And what tied the breakfast was seeing that four other members of your ... well _our_ family, added to Mama Manoso's traditional favorite moment of the past year-display, the Christmas present-picture we took of our newborn babies under the family egg tree at the hospital just after Trey and Jamie were born."

"You kept saying your tears were happy ones," I said, as she passed me Jamie so she could chase down Trey.

I didn't help her Mama Day crying situation when I'd presented Jamie and Trey's gift to her. A picture I'd snapped when I'd walked into the bedroom after coming home from an early-morning apprehension. I found Steph lying surprisingly still yet awake on our bed in her 'Off Duty' Wonder Woman short pj's. Trey had been turned towards her and tucked into the curve of her right arm as he slept, while Jamie was also sound asleep on her chest. I'd clipped the photo to a frame with the words ... " _Home Is Where Our Mommy Is_ " carved into the hardwood.

She'd been doing an okay job of holding it together until I leaned over the boys after she'd unwrapped it to whisper _'You aren't just the heart and soul of our family, Steph, you are 'home' to me.'_ Luckily the boys were busy playing with the bow from the box or they would've been crushed by the force behind the full-body hug she gave me.

"They _were_ happy tears," she said now, slightly out of breath from the short sprint into the hall. "It's one thing to love your babies so much you almost can't take it, it's actually overwhelming to realize everyone around you loves them just as much as we do."

"That's what I felt and more when you were willing to trade yourself, and possibly sacrifice your life, to get Julie away from Scrog. You hadn't even met her before the moment he kidnapped you and you woke up in a room with her."

"There weren't any other options in my mind. She _had_ to be found and she had to be safe. And if I was needed to ensure it ... _nothing_ and _no one_ would have stopped me, not even you. I know you still think it, but I'm going to tell you again ... you _did not_ use me or set me up to pay for her life with mine. I willingly volunteered to do whatever I could save your child. And I would do it again. Now she's also _my_ daughter. It was a complete nightmare at the time, but the story ended well."

"It did," I agreed, looking at the boys and what Steph had their clothes saying this holiday day.

Jamie's onesie had a stick figure-kid with the line-arms drawn straight out from his side, the words he appeared to be shouting were ' _I Love Daddy This Much!_ ' And Trey's simply and quite effectively stated ' _Dear Daddy, I Love You!'_ I'm more sorry now than I was ten minutes ago that Julie isn't here, just to see what Steph would have tried to get her to put on. The boys don't have a say at the moment, Julie would no doubt have _a lot_ to say on the subject.

She would've given Steph a run for her money, but she'd go along with almost anything her step-mom suggests just to get a laugh out of me. I already nixed going to my parents' house wearing the ' _This Guy_ ' shirt Steph hadn't been joking about buying me, but I did make her blush when I told her I'll be putting it in a T-shirt frame and it'll be hung in the front hall of our home.

"Our boys are especially cute when they're telling you that they love you, aren't they?" My wife asked.

"They're only managing to get half of Mama or Dada, Babe. I don't think they're up to the 'L' word. I have a feeling their Mom had a little something to do with them showing their appreciation for me."

Trey and Jamie tried to prove me wrong with a few spitty ' _La_ ' attempts with their tongues, but I'd chalk that up to teething.

"So sue me," Steph told me. "No ... scratch that. You have a team of lawyers almost as vicious as a group of pissed off Rangeguys."

She isn't exaggerating, but I would never use them on her.

"I see you didn't just set me a place at the table, you set up two high chairs. I'm assuming this is going to be a breakfast for four this morning," I said to them.

"You know what they say about assuming something, but your assumptions are always on point. You've asked the doctor about when we should try out solid foods for the boys, but I was secretly hoping she'd say closer to the six-month mark so we could feed them their first solid meal on - or at least around - Father's Day for a memorable day of your own. She wanted them to gain a little more weight before we tried it, so it did work out. Now you get to eat your Father's Day breakfast as they try a baby-friendly version of it."

"Thank you. Now I can say that this day isn't about me."

She circled my midsection with the arm not around Trey. "Sorry, today is definitely _Daddy Day_. I made you a breakfast banana split ..."

"Babe."

"Don't worry, it's actually just a banana that's been split open, filled with Greek yogurt, and sprinkled with chopped fruit and healthy nuts. For protein, you have a choice of eggs baked in sweet potato boats or stuffed avocados. Plus carrot cake baked oatmeal for a slightly sweet finish, and coffee and freshly squished grapefruit juice to make everything go down better. The doc said mushed-up avocado is one food we could try for the boys, so we really can eat our first real breakfast together."

"You're going to eat an avocado filled with tomatoes, cheese, and breakfast sausage?"

"Actually, I was thinking of having the last of your Mom's guacamole on some chips while you three do 'the healthy thing'."

"Think again," I warned her, as she slipped Trey into the slate-gray high chair while I got Jamie's legs to cooperate and both slide into the black version of the chair. "You're eating what we're having."

"If I'd known that, I would've made you pancakes, not something healthy but somewhat creative."

"You refuse to make pancakes even for yourself."

"Because despite all of Ella and Mama Manoso's tips, the first one always sticks and then I don't want to play pancake-maker anymore. But that's not the point."

"I know," I told her, saying a prayer that bibs will be all we need for the boys and not full Hazmat suits to keep their entire bodies from turning green. "I also know you wouldn't make me something you wouldn't eat yourself."

"That may be a little true, but feel free to dig into your food while I set the stage here."

I answered that by cutting two pieces off an avocado and forking one into her mouth before taking a bite myself.

"Put your acting skills to good use, Steph. Four eyes are watching you."

She smiled, but I can tell it isn't one just for show. She enjoyed the fruits of her labor as much as she's enjoying this time with the three of us.

"Your mom wouldn't lie to me, so I know everything's good even if it isn't a doughnut. Okay, boys, I'm literally buckling you up because this is an experience I'm not sure I'll be able to sell you on," she said, doing exactly that and Velcroing what will likely be useless bibs around both boys.

We each took a baby bowl and mentally crossed our fingers that they choose to eat a few bites of it.

I put a small amount of mashed almost-beyond-recognition avocado onto the tip of the soft-tipped baby spoon and brought it to Jamie's mouth. His growing interest in watching our food go from our plates into our mouths whenever he's sitting with us, seemed to have him curious if the motion will work for him as well.

I was managing better than Steph. She got one spoonful into Trey's mouth without any issues, but for the next semi-mouthful, he grabbed his Mama's hand in both of his and tried to take the reins in this feeding frenzy. It took some effort to free herself, and when Steph went for bite three, Trey had the handle of the spoon in his sights. He got a death grip on it and turned independent.

"Just like your Daddy, huh? Already trying to do everything yourself," Steph said to Trey before glancing over at me. "Let's switch so I can feel like I'm helping out here."

"Sorry, Babe," I told her, feeling the strength of one of our baby's grip myself. "Jamie is only seconds behind his brother when it comes to knowing and exerting his mind.

They were messy in the process, but with only a little guidance from us, both boys managed to fist a spoon or the hand holding it, and direct their food towards their mouths with only a few misfires that Steph or I were quick to wipe away. Once they grew bored with gumming the vegetable paste down, their attention moved to the bowls ... the source of the green goo they are still mildly confused by but don't appear to hate.

After the fifth grab for one or both dishes, Steph caved. "We'll let you see the bowls and what's inside them, but we have to be really careful. Okay? Aunt Tatty made these porcelain dishes just for the two of you. See? On this one she wrote _Trey Cameron Manoso_ around the lip of it. And though the baby blue color of it is the same, the bowl Daddy is holding ... Tatty carved Jamie Marceno Manoso, into its edge. If you take after your Mama, next time you'll be able to finish all the food inside them and you'll see that Aunt Tatty left you each a message. Spoiler alert ... she tells you both that _you are so loved_."

"I'm a hundred percent sure Trey, Jamie, and Julie, already know who loves them and just how much we do."

"I hope so. I've had the opposite experience and I don't want that for any of them. That's why I keep encouraging Val to visit us and Grandma with the girls. I want my nieces to see life, people, and opportunities, beyond the Burg ... for their sanity and mine."

"The girls are strong like their Aunt, they'll be just fine with having you as an example of what they can accomplish."

"Believe me, they already know all too well being married with kids is an option for them. The _only_ option in my mother's mind ... well if she genuinely likes them and approves of their choice in spouses anyway."

"You're not allowed to make me angry on 'my day', Stephanie. You aren't just one thing and you know it. You excel at everything you do, at work, here at home, and everyplace in-between. Being my wife and the mother of three children carrying Manoso genes is not for the faint of heart, so even if you weren't a Jill Of All Trades, just withstanding a marriage to me and remaining a positive and extremely loving influence for our three kids, plus your nieces, is a talent only you have. Add in that you tracked down two FTA hideouts for both the Trenton and Newark branches of Rangeman, got the boys to the doctors for their check-up on your own when I was running a few minutes late, and you still managed to plan this day for me on top of having such a hectic week."

Her hand moved to her wrist and I felt the hug she sent my matching wristband, even as her hand then shot out to keep Jamie's bowl from being flipped over.

"You make me sound like I can do it all," she said, when the boys went for the leftover avocado with their hands, "I can't. I have you, your family, and my Rangefamily. I know how lucky I am, believe me. If you hadn't shown up at the doctor's office when you did, I might've been crying right along with Trey and Jamie. It's not a hospital, but I still don't like the place. And I definitely don't like seeing our babies upset ... like it'd kill medical people to warm stuff up before touching anyone with it?"

I doubt she would have cracked, but I don't mind being seen as her permanent reinforcements.

"When I walked into the exam room, I saw that you were holding your own. You don't have to pretend it doesn't take a village, but give yourself credit for maintaining order in our section of it."

She smiled and gave my wrist another hug via wristband in acceptance of the compliment, but she wouldn't comment on it.

"We got to use Tatty's gifts for the twins' first meal, so check off two in the sentimental column. Now we can switch to regular baby bowls that I won't be scared to break. I want to keep these in the same condition they were given to us."

"Tatty would just make one or two more," I reminded her, "if they broke."

She shook her curls at me. "Nope. _These_ are the two she made for her _Great_ -nephews - emphasis on the _great_ \- and _these_ are the ones we'll be looking at and crying over on their first day of school as we wonder how the heck our babies got big enough to go."

Given the security nightmares I've had - and still prevent everyday - with Julie being in school and all the shootings and abuse taking place in far too many of them, I'm not ready to think about our boys being left under the protection of others. 'Rangeman' may have to venture into the education arena and fund a school covering preschool to the twelfth grade.

"Trey, you've gummed and squished enough food for one day, let's get you and Jamie cleaned up a bit so we can give Daddy his present."

That was a project in itself, getting their dimples and between their twenty fingers clean, but seeing just how much they enjoyed this meal/playtime made the task impossible to complain about, so no one did. After Steph and I sat back down, having given the boys an assortment of teethers and rattles to play with in their high chairs, she handed me two cards and a gift. The card from the boys had cutouts of each of their hands. Four fingers on each were carefully folded so only the thumbs were sticking straight up, reinforcing what was printed along the top on the paper ' _Two Thumbs Up For The World's Best Daddy_ '.

I couldn't stop the grin Steph's card caused with it confidently stating ' _Let's Be Honest ... We Make Really, Really, Ridiculously Good Looking Babies'_.

"We do, even when they may still have a greenish tinge to them," she told me, kissing Jamie's hand as it waved near her.

"We did do good ... and not only with making the two of them."

That got me a kiss and a reminder to get to the gift. I did open it and wasn't surprised to see a framed photo inside. What had my eyebrow lifting was realizing some sneaking around had been done again. In the photo, Julie was holding a little brother in each arm, and on the soles of each of the twins' bare feet something was written vertically. With all four baby-feet together they exclaimed ... ' _We Love You Dad_!' The image had my stomach clenching with a feeling hard to describe, but what really got to me is how easily I could tell that the two words ' _We love_ ' were written by my wife, and ' _You Dad_ ' was in Julie's distinctive hand.

"Aside from the boys, you couldn't have given me a better gift, Stephanie. Thank you."

"You're sure? I know I give you a lot of things like this, but ..."

"You give me this type of gift because you know I love and deeply appreciate them. I wouldn't allow myself the luxury of anything sentimental before you," I stated, putting an end to her doubts.

I think Stephanie has focused on photo gifts, or anything that personalizes our space, because my Rangeman apartment had been aesthetically pleasing but completely sterile. If someone managed to do the impossible, and made it uninvited into my personal space, they wouldn't have learned anything about me even after ransacking the place. My loved ones wouldn't have been discovered and no weaknesses could be exploited.

Steph understood why I lived the way I did, and with each gift she gives to me now to display or carry on me, she's telling me without words that it's okay to admit that I have a life and family that I love ... and not give a fuck who knows it. If someone is feeling especially suicidal and comes after me, we'll stop them. Simple as that.

"That's what I was hoping you'd say. I promise I'll stop _questioning myself_ instead of questioning my _gift choices_."

"And with that promise ... my present just got even better."

She smiled before kissing me, pulling back just in time to miss being beamed by a flying stuffed rattle.

"Good aim, Jamie, but we have to remember that only _planes_ belong in the air, not a monkey-stick."

"Wrong choice of words, Babe," I said, taking the plane-shaped chew toy out of Trey's hand, which had already been pulled back awaiting takeoff.

"How about we make this breakfast an actual 'in bed' one now? At least they'll be able to crawl across the mattress to use up some of their throwing things-energy."

"You get the plates and I'll get the boys. We're counting down to when we're expected at my parents' house."

"I know, that's why you're getting your gift from me after we're home and the boys are sound asleep."

"Are you giving it to me while naked."

She grinned mischievously at me. "And ruin the fun of letting you unwrap _me_ afterwards? Not likely."

As much as I love my parents, I'm now counting down to bedtime. Whatever she bought me can't compare to what she does to me.

"What the heck is that?" Steph asked a few hours later, after we'd made it down the street, through the house, and out to the Manoso backyard.

"It's clearly a pineapple, Babe."

"Yeah, I see that, but it's one wrapped in a basket weaved-bacon blanket. Sorta like the top of this dress, but in food-form."

"Oh Stephanie," my father said, wrapping her in a hug instead of a pork parka, "how I do love you. This is what they call a 'Swineapple'. And it comes with its own surprise, it's cored and filled with ribs."

"Okay, now the feeling of love is _even more_ mutual Papa Manoso. How do you like the sound of that? We're probably going to be trying out different grandpa names on you before you and the boys settle on one, so bear with us. Ranger thinks Papi fits you. I like Papa Manoso. Julie flip-flops between _Grandpa_ and ' _Hey everyone ... I'm back. I know you missed me_ '."

"I have to say, I'm partial to anything my Julie calls me because that means she's here, or at least we're talking to her."

"I know Ranger feels the same, even if Jules gives him a two-syllable _Da-ad!_ when she feels he's being too overprotective."

"A father can _never_ be too overprotective," I said, catching Jamie before he could faceplant on the blanket spread out under the canopy that was put up just for the boys.

Which didn't help protect them from the sun, since everything they want to see or touch aren't under it. Trey and Jamie need time outdoors with proper protection, but we already know they'll play, fall asleep, and then play again until it's bedtime, in the time my family will take to fully celebrate our father. The only day that tops it in length is Mother's Day.

"Believe me, only the _really good ones_ feel that way," Steph said, making me hurt for her.

I want her here with me and my family, but I would have appreciated her DNA-contributors putting up a fucking fight for her and her time. I wouldn't let them win, because she and the boys belong right here where they are, but I want her to know she's wanted everywhere she has family.

"You're lucky, Stephanie," my father broke in, "because in a way ... you have two over-protectors. Carlos loves, protects, and takes care of, you as thoroughly as he does his children. And you also have me. If I could describe the ideal daughter, you would appear right in front of me, just as you did today."

" _Ahem_ ... what about us?" Ophelia asked. "We've put up with Carlos for a lot longer than Stephanie has."

"Love you too," I said to annoy her.

Our father got an arm around her and Celia. "I did help make four incredibly intelligent, beautiful, and more than ideal, daughters. I just wanted to remind Stephanie that your mother and I consider her our daughter ... and not just by law. Unfortunately for her, she's stuck with me acting like a Proud Papa just as all of you are."

"I consider myself _fortunate_ to be a Manoso ... by marriage, by choice, or any other way I can be one," Steph told us, leaning down to pick up Trey who was hell-bent on getting to one of the balloons Elias pulled down for his nephews. "If anyone's stuck with someone, it's y ..."

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence, Stephanie," I warned her.

"You tell her, Carlos," Mama Manoso said, clear approval in her tone. "Stephanie, we love you as much as your husband and children do. And I'm not just saying that to get my grandson."

"Thanks for that. I am seeing how both boys seem to grow and change everyday, so I don't blame you for wanting whatever time you can have with them. If they didn't need to eat, they probably wouldn't bother with us now that they can get almost everywhere they want to go."

Trey smiled up at her as he reached for her mouth. She kissed his tiny fingers and then snuggled her face into his neck while giving him a rocking-hug. Nola was holding and trying to keep Jamie amused, but she made the mistake of moving too close to the temptation of his Mama and brother. The snuggle is real ... and he wanted in on it.

"Still think you're only one thing to them?" I asked, as she reached for Jamie.

She didn't answer for a moment, holding herself still knowing a drooly kiss is coming her way.

"No, I don't. I'm not who I was, so I'm not being treated like I was. Come on, Mini-Manosos, let's get Mama some food so she can make more of yours."

"The only thing that rivals love in this family ... is food," I commented, watching my wife and twins peruse the buffet.

And a buffet it is. If some of my men weren't stopping by to spend time with the man they consider a father figure to them as well, I'd be concerned for our fridge since the majority of leftovers come home with us because our home is usually filled to capacity. Memorial Day is just one example of how a party can happen outdoors just as easily as indoors. And my parents, my father especially, wanted to make good use of the warmer weather and his grill. My parents are similar, both want to give each other a day that's all theirs to relax, but neither are capable of sitting back and letting others wait on them. My mother prepared as much as she was able to, but Papa Manoso wanted to put grill lines on everything he could. So the food became what the six of us are ... the right blend of both of them.

That the outdoor tables had tablecloths covering them, tipped me off that there are lights hidden underneath. And whatever light source they chose, along with the LED lit balloons, means the backyard will have a soft glow when the sun starts to go down. Which is about the time the activity will wind down … and when the gifts, wine, and cake, will be served this holiday. Of course, if asked ... both my mother and father would say no presents are needed, that having all of us under one roof again is the only gift they'd ask for.

Though the picture Steph and my mother collaborated on of my grandfather holding a framed picture of my father holding a framed image of me cradling Trey and Jamie, is going to cause some appreciative-tears. But in our defense, he _should_ be expecting it, since we did a similar one for my mother for Mother's Day with Julie.

Having Julie visiting almost every month, and being able to be home to help take care of and raise Jamie and Trey, I now understand what my parents meant whenever they'd say a quiet home, to them, is a sad home ... because it means all of their children aren't together in it since the Manosos start at loud. Neither Steph or I are loud or overly-expressive people, preferring to always fly under the radar ... unless our kids are around. The three of them seem to give us unspoken permission to outwardly show what we're feeling inside.

"Since your hands are obviously full," I said to my wife, "just tell me what you'd like and I'll fix you a plate. Once the men start showing up, you won't see the boys until it's naptime."

"Don't I know it. The guys spend time with the boys almost everyday, yet they act like we're hogging them ..."

"Which you are," Celia interrupted. "You need to eat, so I'll play with my nephews until you both are done."

"You forget that I can amuse our babies while Stephanie is eating," I pointed out.

She ignored me and stole Trey and Jamie before turning smartass. "It's Father's Day, brother of mine ... and since _you're_ a father, too, I should be nice and babysit while you take it easy."

Steph rolled her eyes for me and then I grabbed us each a plate. Since crawling and teething started almost simultaneously, we've learned to take advantage of any free time we find ourselves with. I put one plate down and moved to fill Steph's with whatever I saw she was interested in. The choices, though grill-centered, were varied.

Cold dishes that had been brought out right before our grandparents and my men were due to arrive which would hopefully cool them all off, included watermelon salsa served inside halved and hollowed-out watermelon bowls, and creamy cucumber slices in a sour cream/dill dressing that my father has been known to put on his burgers in lieu of pickles. A spicy jicama/mango salad was also an option, and a corn one made from cobs that were grilled last night in preparation if the scent wafting into our backyard as we pushed the boys on their swings were from this particular yard.

As soon as everyone was here that should be, my father kicked into overdrive. Grilled appetizers were coming off the grill almost faster than they could be eaten, though Tank, Bobby, Sybo, and Cal, put considerable effort into making my father feel that he knows his way around a grill, just by packing away whatever was sitting still for longer than the five-second-rule allowed. Individual Romaine salads felt the heat, along with stuffed Baby Bella mushroom skewers and mini red potato-skin burgers.

My mother's sense of humor and creativity was on full display as she wove strips of bread dough around hot dogs to be grill-cooked and then cut apart and dipped into a honey mustard sauce. Hollowed out onions filled with a meatball mix and wrapped in bacon were consumed so enthusiastically, I feared my father had put himself out of a job grilling the steak, chicken, and flatbread pizzas that are planned for the afternoon.

His signature brisket may be relegated to tomorrow's sandwiches. No one is going to be hungry enough for the main courses, let alone the grilled desserts he and my mother worked side-by-side on that involved grilling glazed doughnuts to be cut open and topped with scoops of homemade vanilla ice cream and sliced strawberries. Even though there's a realistic-looking charcoal grill cake that my mother had made for Father's Day set for later on in the evening, grilled angel food cake with a bourbon/raspberry sauce was also on the menu to tide everyone over until then.

And just because Valerie said she was going to drop Edna off here and was hoping to bring the girls along with them to visit for a little while, foiled-wrapped 'campfire cones' were put together in anticipation of our nieces tossing them onto the grill. Unfortunately, I learned they were sugar cones filled with chocolate chips, chopped nuts, unwrapped caramels, and mini-marshmallows, to be turned into a melted mass that'll be harder to clean up after than Trey and Jamie were this morning. A 'sugar coma in a cone' is a more apt description of the things.

The kind of sweet surprise I enjoy has to do with _my children_ , not any kind of food. As she promised me this morning when she called to say Happy Dad's Day, and to ask if I opened her gift, Julie called again to speak to her grandfather and wish him a happy day as well.

Even hours later, the Daddy/Daughter date book she gave me along with a card that said ' _I'll always be your little girl, and you'll always be my hero,'_ had the ability to affect me. Since the day she was born, I wondered if I'd get to have any kind of relationship with my child, let alone a close father/daughter one. But even late at night when I couldn't sleep and allowed myself to wish for more, I couldn't have imagined what Julie and I have together now. The small notebook she had made me was filled with the days throughout the rest of the year that she'd already gotten permission from her parents to come to Trenton to see the family here that loves her. As an added gift, next to each day she wrote what she hopes she and I can do together when she gets here.

"Did you tell them yet?" My daughter asked me.

Steph popped up beside me, hearing and seeing Julie on my cell. "Nope, but we can do it while you're here if you have a few minutes as I explain it."

"We're going out to dinner at six, so take your time if you want," was my daughter's response. "Where are my little brothers?"

"Talking to the bunnies, though the rodents are probably regretting having such big ears to hear in all different directions, with our babies talking to each other close by. I noticed Rex doesn't get out of his bed until the two have left the kitchen."

"Don't pick on the boys, Steph. They're loud but really cute."

"They are indeed," my mother said. "Now what is it you three know that I don't? You've been here for hours now and haven't said a thing. Julie, Stephanie, _Carlos_ , would one of you like to start talking?"

"I've said plenty, just not about this," Steph told her.

"Go on then, speak up ... and fast."

"Yeah, Steph, hurry up," Julie said, contradicting her earlier statement about taking our time.

"You know how we were saying we were waiting until the boys were a little bigger to get back to our old schedule ... weekdays in Trenton, weekends here?" Steph said to our family.

" _Oh shoot!_ " My mother exclaimed. "I was hoping you forgot all about that. We love having all of you so close, I didn't want to see it end."

"Rosina, honey," my father said, curling an arm around her, "we've talked about this. Carlos and Stephanie have to do what's best for their family."

" _Exactly!_ " Steph told them. "We haven't moved back to Trenton because I've been making up excuse after excuse in order to stay here longer ... ' _I didn't feel ready to leave our safety-family here.' 'The boys may get freaked out sleeping in a different room than the one they're used to.' 'We'd waste two hours of time with Julie by having to sit in a car as we drive from Trenton to here and then back_."

"I finally just asked Steph outright ..." I added.

"Asked her what?" My mother interrupted, now holding her breath as she waited for the answer.

"If Stephanie wanted to go back to Trenton at all," I finished.

"I realized the best thing for our family," my wife stated, "is to stay here in Newark, next door to you ... not only for the boys, but us too. And Ranger agreed. You all are here, Grandma lives only a few streets away in a building we do have to run, and most of the guys spend more time at our house or ' _checking on the Newark Newbies_ ' which leads them to our place afterwards, so we don't have to worry about missing them. And Val and Mary Lou have said separately that the drive here doesn't bother them, and they plan on visiting every chance they get ... "

"What Stephanie is saying ..." I broke in.

" _What I'm saying_ ," she said, cutting me a look, "is Happy Mother's/Father's Day, Mom and Dad Manoso. Having you as parents, and Trey and Jamie getting the best Grandparents any kids could have, makes it seem like a dumb decision to go back to a place that we feel we've outgrown. There's not much in Trenton for us, while we already have everything we love and could need right here."


	17. Chapter 17

**Everybody and anything familiar belongs to Janet. The mistakes, the Twins, and Ranger's family, are mine.**

 **Chapter 17**

 **Ranger's POV**

"That's all the time we have for working out today, my little half-pint heartbreaker," Steph told Jamie, shaking the hands that are wrapped around her thumbs. "We have a surprise to get to."

She's sitting on the carpet in our living room, with her legs stretched out in front of her and Jamie lying happily on them. They've been doing a combination of play and baby yoga as she gently moved a small arm or leg and pretended to be going through a workout routine with him.

I was doing something similar with Trey, except he and I are on the couch and I only have one boot on the floor.

"Are you excited?" I asked her, assisting our son in a sit-up so he could actually sit up.

"Yes," she replied. "It's different letting your parents be in on it. Their happiness, your mom's especially, is contagious."

"So is yours, Steph," Julie said, coming back from the kitchen with a drink in her hand and a teasing grin on her beautiful face.

"That's likely due to the fact that _you're_ here," she told our daughter. "We only have that honor on a few holidays. I told your dad that we should start making up new ones during school vacation times so we can get more time and visits with you."

"I don't think you need to make anything up," Julie answered. "There are _a lot_ of holidays that no one else celebrates that we could ... like today."

"Sounds like we have a topic to thoroughly discuss after we get home tonight," I said, slipping my hands under Trey's arms to pick him up.

Steph slowly drew her knees towards her so Jamie was almost standing on her abdomen, and she leaned forward to kiss him before doing an impressive one-move, no-hand, stand with Jamie smiling at his brother and I over her shoulder. He's adorable with just a tooth looming and dark hair that still needs some filling in, but it _is_ easy to see that both boys will be heartbreakers with a full set of hair and a full set of pearly whites framed by their dimples.

"That's what I love about my life now," my wife said, surprising us by turning serious, "there's _always_ something to look forward to ... day or night, Monday through Sunday."

"That's my mother's influence," I replied.

She brought herself and Jamie close enough so she could kiss me. "Nope, it's _yours_."

"Let's go Brothers 1&2," Julie said, curling both arms securely around Trey and Jamie, taking them away from us. "Your kids are walking to the door, so make the smooching quick."

"Don't worry," Steph said against my lips, "I know you don't _smooch_ , you _kiss_ ... really, _really_ well."

"You guys do get, don't you ... that if I walk out the door, the surprise will be ruined?" Julie called from our front hall.

"If I weren't so anxious to crash a Manoso brunch," Steph commented, "I'd complain that she's cutting our time together short."

"I should warn you, holiday-conspiring with Julie isn't the _only_ thing you have to look forward to tonight, Babe."

I gave my wife what she calls my wolf grin. As expected, it caused an immediate blush.

"I repeat _... I. Love. My. Life_. Now, grab the ready-to-burst bag for the boys. We both know that Julie isn't kidding. She's already managed to get the front door open despite her arms being full of brothers. Hold your horses ... and the twins!" Steph mock-shouted. "We're coming!"

I got the sizable amount of things essential for two boys for an entire day spent away from home, and then I joined them at the door.

"Let us carry the boys," I suggested to Julie, "and you hang back behind us so none of your Aunts will spot you before we even reach the door."

"This is fun," our daughter said, as Steph took Trey while I completely freed Julie by holding Jamie. "Not as exciting as when I surprised _you_ , Dad, but I'm still loving this."

"Would you like us to use Trey and Jamie as deflectors so you can breathe for a second before you get smother-hugged?" I asked.

"Nope. I can take whatever love they throw at me."

"Suit up, Kid. You're up," Steph teased. "We're going in."

With us each holding a twin, Steph and I parted and let Julie pass between where our arms had been touching. She opened the door, and the four of us followed her inside the packed house.

" _Surprise!_ " She yelled to the crowd.

They had been smiling, already enjoying the party. They now looked pleasantly shocked at Julie's unexpected arrival.

"Happy Aunt and Uncle Day to _my_ _favorite_ Aunts and Uncles!" My daughter told her captivated audience.

"Jamie and Trey would say the same," Steph told the stunned faces, as she used her arm like a chair for Trey to sit on facing everyone, "but all they've mastered so far is _mamamama_ , _dadadada_ , and _bubbub_. I know they feel the same exact way as their sister, though."

Trey fed off the energy of the crowd. I realized the way Steph held him is likely a safety precaution, because his arms went wild and his legs kicked in childlike abandon. I let Jamie recline along my arm so my siblings could read both of the boys' shirts. Trey's declared _'I Get My Awesomeness From My Aunts And Uncles_ ' and Jamie's white tee said _'Be Jealous, I Have The Best Aunties And Uncles_ '. This morning in the nursery, Steph's reply to my raised eyebrow when I saw their clothing had been ... " _Who needs a billboard when you have two babies to deliver a message_?"

" _We're_ the surprise target this time?" Celia asked, getting to Julie before even my mother could.

"Yes," I answered. "Today's a day we're thanking each of you for what you've done for, and the love you have shown, my family."

"You mean _our_ family, brother of ours," Amalia corrected.

"That one, too. So Steph, Julie, the boys, and I, are treating you all to a day of relaxing and spending time with your niece and nephews at Point Pleasant."

"We can let Jamie and Trey touch otters and watch jellyfish and penguins swim at the Aquarium, play games in the Arcade, go on rides at the Amusement Park, and then we can introduce our boys to the beach when it isn't as hot out," Steph told our family, who did move en masse towards us to hug Julie and take her and the boys further into the house.

"I forgot all about that," Celia said to us, "saying last year that National Aunt and Uncle day is in July and it should be celebrated."

Steph tsked her. "Yep, July 26th is yours. And you should know by now that Ranger's mind isn't a steel trap, but more like a titanium prison cell. Everything he hears gets locked in there ... just waiting for its chance to be sprung."

"That's an interesting and accurate description of what goes on in there," Elias said, pretending to 'knock' on the side of my head.

"Don't make me hurt my children's Uncle today," I warned him.

"You can get your children through the teen years, but you can never fully get the teenager out of your child no matter how big they get," my mother said, giving us something to consider. "Now that all my children and grandchildren are here, we can have ourselves a feast before we take our party to the coast."

Mama Manoso seems bereft without a theme for her family gatherings, so Steph and I had told her our plans for the family - and about Julie secretly arriving, since my mother and Steph have coffee together with Edna almost every morning. The daily routine that Steph wasn't willing to give up would've made our daughter hard to hide. We let Mama Manoso take the surprise brunch from there, relieving ourselves of the duties of trying to get all five of my siblings, along with as many off-duty Rangemen who didn't already have plans - the men being Uncles to my children just as much as Elias is - to come for an impromptu middle of the week brunch.

Since this was intended to be a surprise, my mother didn't want to give away why we're all gathered here together with specific Aunt and Uncle decorations, though I'm now curious what she would have come up with for a not-so-recognized holiday. She decided on a tasteful table and downplayed decorations heavy with beachy undertones, which is entirely appropriate for a July party.

The table is covered in a ocean blue tablecloth with a burlap runner paving the way for her seemingly endless centerpiece. The stacked plates are white up until the shallow sea green bowls made by Aunt Tatty, who promised to appear before we leave Newark despite her arguing that she's 'just an honorary' Aunt. My mother's take no prisoners reply to that bullshit spoke for us all. _Family_ doesn't have to involve blood ... _sharing_ or _shedding_ it.

Each place setting is topped with a porcelain starfish. The white 'Christmas' lanterns are now filled with sand plus white candles, and are evenly spaced down the center of the table. In-between those are more pronounced odes to the ocean ... with large, square-glass candle holders filled with mini-oceanscapes that have small candles perched above them. Six-inch tall metal sailboats are docked by each place setting. Genuine sea glass was sprinkled in a way I'd be worried about if the boys weren't in high chairs far away from it. And hand-blown glass spheres that were set like table-buoys, reflected the happy faces of the Aunts and Uncles we're honoring today.

"We don't have to worry about Trey and Jamie reaching for anything," Steph said to me, taking note of the safety concerns I've been eyeing, "they've zeroed in on the balloons."

We watched our boys tip their dark-haired heads back against those holding them, staring in awe at the clear balloons strung together and attached to the ceiling above the table and seating areas. I had to admit, they did look a little like air bubbles if we had been underwater.

"Luckily we won't be here long enough for them to pull off more than two balloons each," I told her.

"Since Sybo and Lester have our babies, and while your Mom is hogging Julie, I'm going to do some recon on the food."

I wasn't far behind her, but only because I find _her_ as delicious and irresistible as she does the stuff my mother prepares.

"There's one more surprise, Steph," I told her before she could get elbow-deep into the party fare.

"What?" She asked, glancing down at my pants, _unfortunately_ not in a flirty way.

My cell had started to buzz and she turned instantly suspicious.

"Open the front door and see," I suggested. "Your surprise just arrived."

After a pointed stare at me, she left the feeding station and walked back to the front entrance.

"Happy Aunt/Uncle Day, Aunt Steph and Uncle Ranger!" Mary Alice said with enthusiasm, when the door opened.

" _How ...?_ "

"You're not only a _Wife_ and a _Mom_ , Steph," I reminded her. "You're also an Aunt. I thought your nieces would enjoy a beach and amusement park-day with _their Aunt_ as much as Julie and the boys appreciate time spent with all of their Aunts and Uncles."

" _That's_ why you told me that you guys wouldn't be in Trenton today," she said to her sister before poking a finger into my chest. "And _you_ wanted me to believe Val and the girls would be visiting Kloughn's family just so you could turn sneaky and surprise me?"

"Looks like my plan worked, too," I told her, kissing her into compliance.

"Eww ... gross, Aunt Steph," Mary Alice stated.

"Yeah, there _are_ children in the room," Angie tacked on.

"There definitely are," Steph agreed. "And now we have even more of them to hang out with that'll complain about us kissing. We're just getting ready to raid the refreshments. Come on in. As usual ... there's plenty."

She waved in the Kloughns, followed by Edna, and then she and I got back to the party. It was easy to picture the faces made by my men after the call from my mother. They would all be confused as to why anyone would need brunch when having breakfast _and_ lunch is an option. But their minds changed if their expressions are anything to go by, as Steph gave them a tour and advice on what to grab before Elias descended on the food.

My parents teamed up again so my siblings wouldn't have to do anything except enjoy their day. And Mama and Papa Manoso zig-zagged across the line between breakfast and lunch. Oatmeal cups were filled with vanilla yogurt and fruit, and a biscuits and gravy casserole was put up for rapid consumption. A bagel bar/board with homemade bagels in a basket beside an acre-sized wooden cutting board that had everything from whipped cream cheese and freshly-made jellies - to smoked salmon, lettuce, and a variety of sliced meats and cheeses, was also offered.

A crescent 'wreath' folded around eggs, sausage, and cheese, is what I believe Cal would call just a snack between shifts. Steph was jousting with Julie and Mary Alice using the skewers lined with doughnut holes placed in-between strawberry and banana slices. And Edna seemed partial to the cucumbers, cheddar cheese, and Prosciutto, that were sliced as thin as it's humanly possible to and rolled into sushi-esque shapes. I've already spotted her slipping two of the banana bread breakfast cookies into her bag ... no doubt a snack for the road.

My mother had a little too much fun making miniature versions of chicken and waffles. And not to be outdone, my father's contribution were tater tot cups that are loaded with yet more eggs and cheese but he used bacon this time. Strawberries were cut in half and carefully scooped to make room for spoonfuls of Nutella. And if those weren't sweet enough, pancake tacos are folded around caramelized peaches and topped with fresh whipped cream. The summer berry cheesecake salad, definitely caught Stephanie and Brown's attention.

The Manoso husband and wife duo know the size of the appetites of those here today, and they also prepared breakfast rolls made with ham and cheese instead of cinnamon and frosting. Two Eggs Benedict quiches were added into the mix, along with Monte Cristo sliders and an asparagus Gruyere tart the size of the largest sheet pan my mother owns. There is also seasonal fruit and berries mixed together into salads or incorporated into honey or butter to spread or drizzle onto the biscuits, scones, and cinnamon coffee cake, that are acting as side dishes.

The Farmer's Market is usually left bare and in a state of shock after my parents leave it. The summer fruit made another appearance in the beverages served alongside the freshly ground and brewed coffee. All the Daiquiris, Shirley Temples, Bloody Marys, and Pina Coladas, were made alcohol-free because my parents knew we'd all be on the road soon.

When we had shared the news of Stephanie being pregnant, and followed that up with us having _two_ gifts instead of only one, the dining room table in my parents' home was quickly replaced so there would be room for Julie and the boys to eat alongside the horde of adults. But even the barn door-sized table wasn't enough for my family _and_ our Rangefamily. Julie wanted to sit between her brothers' high chairs, Steph wanted to stay near our kids, I wanted to stay near her, so 'the children's table' became just ' _our family's table'_ with a few Aunts and Tank/Sybo/and Bobby-Uncles thrown in.

"Oh please... let me, Stephanie," my mother said. "I would absolutely love to feed my grandsons the food I prepared special for them."

"Ummm ... Mama," Nola interrupted. "It's _Aunt_ and _Uncle_ Day, shouldn't one of _us_ get to feed our nephews?"

"I'm liking this holiday more and more," Steph told the room. "Jamie and Trey will likely both need diaper changes after they eat or definitely before we leave ... any takers? There's double the load here, so there's enough for two Aunts or Uncles or one of each."

For the first time since our initial Julie/Coast-Day surprise, the room went silent.

"Guess doody-duty is ours alone, Babe," I said to her.

"Don't you two give up so easily," my father added. "If they want to feed one end, they should be willing to clean the other."

"I was just teasing," Steph assured them. " _Separately_ , Ranger and I have diaper-changing down to a science. _Together_ , we could win Olympic medals for speed, thoroughness, and amusing commentary, for our diaper-time."

She isn't exaggerating. I've found changing twin boys simultaneously requires almost the same amount of precision and skill as hand-to-hand combat.

Steph and I waited to eat as we watched our family take turns feeding applesauce to Trey and Jamie while our boys decided on the amount they wanted to eat versus play with. Elias and Celia took two for the team and _did_ tackle the diapers and the tangle of arms and legs that always impede the process. And then we were ready for our caravan to head to the coast.

Eating a meal before going on rides wouldn't be wise, so we started with the Aquarium. The goal was to let the Aunts and Uncles have all the time they want with our kids and Steph's nieces, but once my wife realized you really could shake hands with - though it's more like a high-five - actual otters, she quickly called dibs on the boys so they could do something together that not many people will ever get to.

"Can you wave 'Hi' to Mr. Otter, Jamie? How about you, Trey?" Steph asked them. "See ... you just put your hand flat like this and he'll put his out."

Their Mama demonstrated this, shifting the twins in her arms so she could put her hand against the small circle opening in the plexiglass otter enclosure. She let all five webbed-toes make full contact and I can easily see that the smile toying with my wife's lips isn't just for our sons' benefit.

"How cool is that, Guys?" She said to our babies, tucking her head in-between the two identical ones. "Do you wanna try?"

Given how unpredictable their hand movements are when Trey and Jamie are excited, I crouched down beside the three of them and helped _her_ help _them_.

Jamie was a bit more hesitant than Trey, but four arms flew up in the air and then back down after they each got to experience an otter high-five. They bounced their sturdy little bodies on their Mama's knees as they laughed, and drool started to fly as they 'talked' to each other about what just happened.

"Brace yourself, Boys," I told them, bending my head to kiss the top of theirs, "the fun is just beginning."

I thought that was warning enough.

Julie held Jamie as Amalia snagged Trey, and they both laughed with the boys who had put their four hands on the glass of one aquarium, pressed their faces as close as they could to it, and made their baby-interpretations of fish faces at the clown and parrot fish that swam past them.

At the touch tank, Julie enjoyed herself just as much as they did when she got to hold a starfish, touch a sea urchin, and pet a stingray, right along with her baby brothers. Even the men who are used to activities that involve major spikes in adrenaline ... refused to look bored at a day geared towards children. Being invited today as members of our family, and seeing Julie, Trey, and Jamie, enjoying themselves ... is more than enough for any of them.

We made multiple stops to let the kids pay equal attention to the penguins, turtles, and jellyfish, before we moved onto the Amusement Park-part of our Aunt/Uncle Day trip.

Celia, Valerie, and Nola, went with Julie, Angie, and Mary Alice, on all of the roller coasters, while Elias sat with Trey on a more baby-friendly ride ... the carousel. Ophelia had Jamie on her lap on the horse in front of theirs, while Tank stood by Lisa on hers. Steph and I got to go head-to-head on the bumper cars, and we managed to get our kids back so we could enjoy the Ferris wheel as a family.

At the arcade, Lester and Bobby had a skeeball showdown. Elias, Tank, and Cal, competed at shooting hoops, while the other men staked out any game where sniper-level skill would prove useful. My parents had a good time seeking out any machine that involved winning tokens or were known to shoot out tickets. And I systematically won Julie a unicorn, Steph a Teddy Bear holding a pink heart, Trey a Minion, and Jamie a Mickey Mouse, out of a single claw machine. Having exceptional aim and instincts is handy for more than warfighting. Though I didn't technically need it, I had my own version of Lady Luck in the form of Stephanie. As I stood at the machine, she had pressed her front tightly to my back and rested her chin against my arm as she watched me complete each stuffed animal mission.

Steph then had me and Tank hold Trey and Jamie on two of the motorcycle rides just so she'd have pictures of them 'steering' the bikes. She's claiming to now have an entry for next year's Mother's Day collage, though we both know that there will be many more moments between now and then that will be serious contenders.

Even though it was loud enough that the boys had on ear protection, they seemed to enjoy all the colors and activity going off, and going on, all around them, laughing anytime someone hit a jackpot that triggered an explosion of lights. We hit the beach for a few minutes before Jamie and Trey could conk completely out again like they had on the ride here. Holding a required snow cone and a cone wound high with cotton candy in her hands, Julie paused before taking a bite of either one.

"This was a great day," she shared with us. "I've had so much fun ... I'm sorry to see it end."

Steph had her hands around Trey's middle to hold him upright so the small waves could crash over the little bare toes that are likely on sensory overload between the feel of the sand and the rush of the ocean. I was bent almost in half beside them holding Jamie the same way while my siblings formed a half-circle around the five of us so they wouldn't miss Jamie and Trey's reaction to their first time seeing and splashing in the water.

"Jules," Steph replied, "you should know by now that in _our_ family nothing good ever ends ... it just _continues_."


	18. Chapter 18

**Everyone and anything familiar belongs to Janet. Mistakes are solely mine. The party fare and decorations I found online.**

 **Chapter 18**

 **Ranger's POV**

I heard Trey's voice, and then Jamie's almost right after, come through the baby monitor. The familiar sounds had Stephanie leaving our bed. Any other morning, I would have already been in their room before she heard them, but I promised her last night to 'sleep in', or at least _pretend_ to, on my birthday and let her get the day started. Stephanie had been sprawled, sleepy and sated, across my chest when she had asked that favor, making my dick immediately reharden when she took her fingertip and slowly drew it across the bare skin over my heart in the shape of a cross to seal my promise that I'd stay in bed for as long as she wants me in it.

With a secret smile at that memory, I stretched my arms out and crossed them behind my head, waiting to see what she has in store for me.

"Okay, Boys," I heard about fifteen minutes later just beyond the partially-open door to our bedroom, "Daddy's supposed to still be _sound asleep_. We're going to do something special today and wake _him_ up. You know why that's so special?"

I identified the voice as Jamie's who answered his Mama with a deliberate _Dadadada_ wrapped up in a gurgly-laugh, which I'm betting a tickle or an exaggerated kiss from her prompted.

"You're right, Jamie," she continued, an elbow on the door ready to let the three of them into the room, "it's special because Dada _always_ knows when we're awake before our eyes are even open. So it's not only a special day because it's Dada's birthday, it's also unique because we get to Happy Birthday him awake. Are you two ready?"

I know I am. I left my arms where they were under my head, but I purposely closed my eyes to play along. I felt first one and then another dip in the mattress as Steph put both boys down at the foot of our bed. They hauled diaper over and up me until they reached my face. Jamie's left hand covered my right eye and the tips of Trey's fingers hooked into my lip.

They happily exclaimed ' _Dada!'_ in their distinct cadence, among other sounds and squeals. My face was subjected to a wake-up baby-style that involved tag-teamed palm taps to my face, gummy smile imprints on my cheeks and jaw, and multiple kicks to my ribs, as they covered my chest and shoulders with their entire active little bodies.

I felt Steph's body next as she instructed the twins in the way _she_ prefers to be woken up. "Maybe we should try kissing Daddy awake. Like this ..."

Her lips touched mine and my mouth formed a grin under hers as my eyes opened.

"See, babies of mine? It works _every_ time."

"It works on _you_ , you mean," I told her, wrapping an arm around both of our sons.

"I'm assuming it'd work on you, too, if you didn't have supersonic bat hearing and couldn't actually hear Trey's inner voice telling him that it's time to wake up. You're always ahead of all of us."

"If this is what I'd have to look forward to every morning," I said, getting gooey kisses from each twin, "I'll have to sleep-in more often."

"Yeah, right. As Grandma, who I should warn you is not about to skip you birthday party ..."

"I can't picture a world where she'd choose to skip _anything,_ let alone a party."

"I can't, either. Anyway, she would say ... sleep-in _my patooty!_ You either sleep curled around me, or on your back with me plastered to you, leaving your 'defend me' arm free. That both of your hands were pillowing your head showed that you were wide awake. Luckily our babies can't understand what I'm saying, so for all intents and purposes ... they loved you awake in their happy little ways."

"That works for me," I said, doing a warm-up set of weightlifting as I lifted the dark-haired, olive-complected, sixteen-pound, bundles of energy, separately over my head.

They each came down with a big smile on their face, and they both received a kiss at the end of each of their descents.

"I know you have to work today," my wife said to me, "but we wanted to start your day off right."

"Mission accomplished. The only thing that could make this morning better is Julie being here."

"Ask and you shall receive," my wife said, getting her phone from the pocket of the black and purple printed shorts she wore to bed after I had removed her tank top, jeans, and everything under them.

I fully filled and satisfied the body that was under those clothes before she covered herself back up in anticipation of jumping out of bed this morning at the first hint of a double-baby wake-up in case I refused to adhere to our agreement.

"Happy Birthday, Range-Dad," my daughter told me. "I was just with you guys, but I already miss you."

"I understand the feeling," I told her. "I miss you, too."

"If school wasn't an issue, I'd be there today. I hope you know that."

"I do. You can't completely alter your schedule just for the opportunity to have cake here."

"Steph and Grandma both promised to save me some. I just want to remind you that I love you … and love that _you're_ my Dad. I really like you as a person. And I really, _really_ miss you, Steph, and my little brothers there."

"We feel the same about you," Steph added. "I need all the reinforcements I can get. Even Rex is a boy."

"I know you don't need help with them. Dad and the boys love you and would do anything to make you happy."

"You're speaking from experience, being the other Manoso female they all live to see smile."

"I hope I am. Not that I want you all to go out of your way for me ..."

" _Out of our way_ when it comes to _you_ ," my wife told our daughter, "is programmed into our family-GPS. Your dad and I will do anything for you."

"You already have," she said, as the three of us remembered Scrog. "But she's right, Dad. You're always doing everything for everybody, you should get some pampering too."

"I don't require it."

"All the more reason to subject you to it," Steph told me. "Hey, Boys ... stop socializing with only each other and include us in your conversation, will ya?"

She wrangled both and got them into the shot so Julie can see the twins' faces, not just the back of their heads as they continued to chase each other.

"Hiya ... Little Brothers," Julie said to the boys. "You guys did a good job waking Dad up so I could talk to him."

"They're as excited as we are about today," Stephanie told her.

"Babe."

"Nope, you can't _Babe_ me in that tone on your birthday. You may not enjoy the date or the attention, but I thank everything holy - and some things that aren't - that you were born."

"Me, too," Julie added. "If you weren't ... Trey, Jamie, and I, wouldn't exist. And I wouldn't know Stephanie, either, without you."

"Excellent points, Jules," my wife replied. "So if you don't want to call today your birthday, you can view it as a day that changed a lot of lives … and saved a lot more."

"And it's a day that eventually led to creating some pretty awesome new lives," my daughter said in their closing statement. "I see the shirts Jamie and Trey have on ... nice touch, Steph."

"Thank you," she replied. "Thankfully changing the clothes on both of them is a twenty-minute commitment, or your Dad would likely switch out the shirts for something else before he leaves. I have to call dibs on the changing tables for holidays if I ... I mean _your brothers_... want to say something via T-shirt."

Today's T-shirts exclaimed 'Daddy's Biggest Fan' worn by Jamie and Trey declared he's a 'Daddy Worshipper'.

"I know what _my_ shirt would say if I were there with you guys," Julie told us.

" _What?_ " Steph wanted to know.

"Nice try. If I tell you, you'll be scouring stores in-person or online, trying to find it just to send to me."

My wife grinned at me. "She knows me well."

"We all do," I told her.

"Okay, I know you have to work today, Dad, so I'll let you guys get to breakfast. Steph told me you're doing gifts tonight at Grandma's party, you should get mine by then. And yes, I know I don't have to get you anything, but I really want to."

"You're calling later?" I asked, knowing a parent-call, plus a Manoso family-call, from her are part of our holiday traditions now.

"Yup. When you're with Grandma and Grandpa, I'll be there, too. Bye, Steph ... bye, Little Brothers. I'll talk to you soon."

"We're counting on it," I told her. "I love you."

"Love you back more."

With two almost eight-month-olds, there isn't much time to dwell on regrets, whether or not you choose to have any, so I couldn't wish too long for the years I could've had with my daughter that I can't get back. I only had time to be thankful for what I have today.

"So birthday guy," Steph said, stretching out on the bed behind the boys, "are you ready for breakfast? We'll have to eat fast unless we can drag it out and get Tank to join us. I don't mind purposely postponing your apprehension."

"Did you make breakfast?"

She slid in-between Jamie and Trey to kiss me. "Would it change your answer if I did?"

"No."

"Good," she said after another kiss. "But apparently being your wife allows me only certain privileges. I get to enjoy your body whenever you feel like sharing it, and I can have your children, but your Mom wasn't relinquishing her right to make you the 'most important meal of the day' on one of her six most important days as a Mama. That's one tradition I'm betting our boys hope I don't latch onto."

"You can hold your own in the kitchen, Babe. When you choose to."

"With plenty of adult supervision maybe. When your Mom heard that you'd be heading out with Tank, she made him something for the road."

"Solitary confinement or the death penalty, would be to most people the worst punishments. For my mother, her idea of hell is having no one to cook or care for."

"That's true. I'm almost happy I loved you long before I met your family, or you may have questioned why I wanted to be with you."

I waited until she put Jamie back down on the mattress after he'd had a day's worth of kisses before it even got started, and then I wrapped an arm around her upper half. I was mindful of our babies creating a pileup on the hills our covers created as I brought my wife close enough to affect every one of my senses.

"Oh ... I _know_ you married me for what I do to you," I whispered into her ear. I could feel the resulting goosebumps that broke out along her skin. "My family is just an added bonus to what you get from me."

She also shivered as she pictured what transpired between us last night. "No truer words have ever been spoken," she told me. "Now get that perfect behind out of bed before I forget that our children are in it with us."

I did get up, but not before giving her plenty to think about while I'm gone. We shared a breakfast of stuffed baked tomatoes, protein-packed breakfast enchiladas, and a strawberry/kale smoothie for me that Steph adamantly refused to try, even though our babies bravely each 'ate' a few spoonfuls of it.

Tank is about to receive two turkey-bacon/egg burritos and a berry-layered yogurt parfait in an insulated travel bowl to eat in our driveway I guess, since we're in the business of _breaking heads_ , not _breaking bread_ with our FTAs. Tank survived combat in multiple hellholes, yet my mother thinks he isn't eating if she's not providing food for him.

I left my little family with a kiss to each of them and an for-the-road bag for Tank in my hand. We arranged it so he'd pick me up on his way back from a stop at our Newark Rangeman. As we were pulling out, he noticed my hand go to my wrist.

"You left the house only three seconds ago," he pointed out.

I sent Stephanie a returning hug from the band on my wrist before replying. "See what happens when you're that good? You're missed before you even leave."

"You talking about yourself? Or about you missing Steph? Since you're stuck with me on your birthday instead of them. Happy birthday, by the way. You made it another year."

"I had help," I told him.

I momentarily let my expression say that he's included in the few who have gone above and beyond to get me to where I am today.

"This should be a relatively quick job," he said after a beat, neither of us comfortable with saying what our friendship has meant to the other.

"I'm not wasting any minutes or effort. I want some family time before we all meet up for whatever my mother has planned."

"There has been a small complication reported ..."

"There's _no room_ for complications today," I warned him.

"I thought you'd want to know ahead of time that the guy's wife and kids are there. So how the target reacts to our arrival is important."

No shit. Depending on the age of the children, seeing a parent put in handcuffs is likely to severely traumatize them.

"I'll be gentle," I promised.

That got a grin out of him. "Yeah right. If I haven't seen you with Steph and the kids, I'd testify under oath to you not knowing the meaning of the word."

His phone buzzed and his eyes shot to me when he answered. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as a warning that my day is about to change. If something is wrong with my family, _I_ would be called unless someone wanted to die ... _not_ my second-in-command, so I know this is work-related.

"What changed?" I asked, before he even disconnected.

"Wife and kids are waiting for him in a car outside the home. Taking the husband by surprise is unlikely now."

"Our file on him lists the husband as armed and dangerous ..."

"He is to all who know him."

Tank slowed down as we neared the address only twenty minutes away from my own home. That never fails to concern me ... how trouble is never far away. Our skip is secondary to making sure none of his family will been harmed if he senses a set up or knows he's trapped like an animal. Tank wasn't surprised when I headed first to the car parked at the curb of the yellow ranch-style home.

However, _I_ was the one slightly caught off guard when I looked into the blue SUV and discovered that the wife and kids Tank had been referring to were _my own_. Stephanie was sitting in the backseat between Trey and Jamie's car seats, looking happy but also a little nervous.

"Don't blame me ..." she tried to say over the ' _Dadadas_ ' Jamie and Trey began shouting when I opened the door and they saw it was me framed in the vehicle's doorway.

"Who else is there to put the blame on?" I asked. "Tank wouldn't have risked a deception like this unless you personally asked him to help you accomplish it."

"Okay ... you got me there, but this is a happy _surprise_... not a _deception_. I wanted today to stand out against the many other special days we've had together. So instead of working for Rangeman on your birthday, your wife and boys are kidnapping you for a few hours."

"Are you now?"

"Yup. I know 'people'. We're being privately flown to Miami so you can have some time with Julie on your birthday. Plus, the boys will get their first taste of Miami before we enjoy a Manoso celebration via your parents. Can you really find a fault with this plan?"

"Only that I wasn't told about it."

"That's the point of surprises ... to ' _surprise you'_. I know I can't really do that with you like someone can with a mere mortal husband, so I had to improvise. Julie can't miss school or skip the sleep she needs to be ready for it, but she also said she can't miss your b-day. If it'll make my trick easier to swallow, tell yourself that this is _for Julie_ , because she really wanted to be with you today. That's like the best gift, your children wanting to be wherever you are. I hope to experience that feeling myself even after I stop being a human dairy farm for our boys."

"Did Julie tell you to come along?" I couldn't resist asking. "Or did she just want you to get me to Florida?"

"I was specifically added to her guest list."

"So she's purposely choosing you. Otherwise she could've bypassed you and called Tank directly. Before I met you, if she wanted something involving me, hopefully without me knowing, she tried my mother and then Tank. Since you and I got together, you've been her first call after me for everything."

"Huh, I was so focused on _you_ having a great day, I sorta didn't notice that."

"Take notice of it now. You're everyone's first choice."

She did a lot of thinking while we drove to the private airspace with Tank following behind us.

"Stop thinking and worrying, Babe. I'm not mad," I promised her, as we boarded the jet.

"You're sure? I know you hate not knowing everything ... and I don't want Julie hurt if you aren't happy about this."

"When haven't I been happy to see our children?" I asked.

"When a poopy diaper is on the agenda?"

" _Stephanie_..."

"Okay, not even then. So there's no reason to worry. Got it."

"Good. Now buckle up. We're about to take off."

She tended to Jamie and Trey and got them and their ears set for flight, and then she settled in beside me across from Tank. More surprises happened as Brown and Santos flanked Julie, bodyguard-style, when they met us at the airport after we landed. I couldn't help but notice her T-shirt and I realized she'd been messing with us this morning. She already had her theme shirt picked out and ready to wear. Her black shirt had white writing that said ... ' _Forever A Daddy's Girl_ ' with a pink heart beside it and an even smaller heart dotting the 'i' in girl.

I don't know if she went to my building to change after leaving Rachel and Ron, or if my relationship with my daughter has finally been accepted as just that. I suppose it doesn't matter, that she ... unlike Jamie and Trey, _did_ choose to wear it, spoke louder than the shirt.

"Your daughter got that shirt all on her own," Steph said to me. "I didn't have to send her anything."

"I'm part of this family, too," Julie stated with confidence. "And I get to wear a fun 'I love my dad' shirt just like my baby brothers. The three of us are in this together."

"Are 'in what' together?" Steph asked.

"Having you and Dad for parents. Jamie, Trey, and I, are a tiny group, but we're the luckiest one."

"You _are_ definitely one of us," Steph told her, "but your dad and I think _we're_ the lucky ones."

"We did good with this kid," Santos said, hooking an arm around Julie, tugging her close to give her head a gentle knuckle-rub.

"We did," I agreed, fighting back a grin when Jamie kicked the heels of his sneakers against me and started clapping at his Uncle's childish antics.

Steph had her hands full when Trey started bouncing in her arms as he got more and more excited about seeing his sister and uncles. It's clear that he's also thrilled with their overall playful mood. The tone for the rest of the day was set at the airport.

"Let's take this party on the road," Steph suggested. "The boys want to move."

"They'll have plenty of room at the Rangeman building," I answered.

We had decided on the plane that my building will be the best place to spend quality time together. Plus my men were were starting to turn bitchy about not having met our babies.

And now that I know more of my men are here, Bobby and Lester along with Tank, _they'll_ need more space than Jamie and Trey.

"I'm riding with the little guys," Julie stated, after a kiss to each brother. "Now it _really_ is a _happy_ birthday."

"It is," I said, while holding her tightly with one arm for as long as she'd let me. "Do I have you or Stephanie to thank for this?"

" _Both_ ," they said together, giving each other equal credit.

On the flip slide, neither is going to let the other go down for the deception.

"Looks like I'm doubly-lucky then," I replied.

"Yep," Steph said, "you are. How about you take us to our home away from home for the next couple of hours?"

"After you," I told her.

My family was buckled into one vehicle and our Rangefamily packed themselves into another. As I turned onto the street where Rangeman Miami is located, Steph spoke up.

"I don't want to freak you totally out, so surprise again," my wife said to me. "You have a party awaiting your arrival. Our Manoso family were doing their normal party-prep, but it wasn't in their Newark kitchen, it was here in Miami. Your parents, siblings, and grandparents, are all going to be exhausted by eight o'clock tonight. They've been plotting and cooking for days so they can hit the ground running when they got here."

"It's alright, Babe. I already knew something was up from Tank's body language on the way to the 'job'."

"Good ... so I can blame your hyperawareness instead of my big mouth and overly-developed worry-gene if you don't appear pleasantly surprised to see everyone."

"You can."

Not only do I appreciate the heads up, I love the fact that she knows I'd prefer one.

' _Happy birthday, Sir_ ', ' _Your family is an interesting group_ ', ' _I wish I had your parents_ ', is what I heard from the time we left our vehicle, to the time we reached the conference room Steph told me my parents and siblings had taken over.

" _Happy Birthday, Carlos!_ " Was shouted in unison by every Manoso here.

"Thank you," I replied.

Jamie and Trey had their own memorable reaction to the noise and familiar faces. The waved 'Hi' with just one hand each, before deciding that wasn't enough. Their four arms shot up and started waving along with their chubby hands. That lasted only a minute before they, as if choreographed, leaned forward in our arms to try to break the hold their Mama and I had on them so they could get the party started.

"I guess it's time to release the babies," Steph whispered to me.

"They're safer here than just about anywhere on the planet," Julie told us, holding out her arms for Jamie. "Grandma joked that she went with a black and white theme, not only because you seem to like the color black, Dad, but also so all my RangeUncles will be dressed to attend wearing their uniforms."

"Your grandmother is always thinking of something or someone," I told my daughter.

"I wonder who inherited that one," Steph said.

"Dad did," Julie answered.

"So did you," I said to her, "which is why today is happening. I guess the chosen theme explains your clothes."

Julie's outfit is casual, with her black 'Daddy's Girl' shirt with the white writing, pared with a black skirt and ballet flats, but her appearance is still a carefully thought-out one. Everything fit her exactly as it should, and she'd taken the time to wind sections of her long hair into an intricately-woven side braid.

The boys gave off the opposite impression, not only because they have white shirts with black sentiments on them along with black cargo shorts and white 'get out of my way' sneakers, but _their_ dark hair dared you to tame it. My wife however went with being gorgeous, and sexy as hell, rather than pretty or slightly wild.

On someone else, the short, fitted, black and white geometric-print, dress would be a nice choice for a family gathering, but on my wife ... it's completely _distracting_. My eyes have strayed to her face, breasts, legs, and black heels, ever since I discovered that she was behind - and waiting for me at - my apprehension, which turned out to be Ella's friend's daughter's home and SUV.

I won't apologize for the body scans I'd been giving my wife that had nothing to do with National Security and everything to do with wanting her again. Being married, plus us having an incredible young woman and two daredevil babies to take care of, did nothing to curb my desire for her. Steph's mine and I want her to know it as often - and as thoroughly - as I can.

"Stop staring the clothes off your wife, Carlos," my mother playfully chided, "and pay some attention to the rest of us."

Steph laughed and turned to her mother-by-choice. "I said something along those lines to your grandsons this morning. And I don't know ... I really like having your son's undivided attention. Though it is his birthday, and we're at a party being thrown by you, so I'm being pretty selfish by hogging his time."

Being baby-less now, I was free to pull my wife to me. "You're not selfish, Babe, you're smart."

"Very funny, Dad," Julie said, physically unhooking my arms from around Steph's waist. "You should come see what Grandma did this time."

Steph trailed behind us, seeing that my siblings have our babies under control even though they were crawling in different directions, anxious to explore their new surroundings. I should be concerned at how unafraid they appear in just about every situation, but Stephanie pointed out that their fearlessness means we're doing our jobs as their parents. Our kids - from oldest to the two youngest - know that we _will_ protect them at all costs ... which ironically gives them the confidence and freedom to experience things on their own.

They also know that we want them to share with us anything they deem entertaining or interesting. We've examined with enthusiasm the rattles the boys hand us to play with. Steph and I have found ourselves praising Trey and Jamie's discoveries of ordinary items like a broom or even the condensation on the outside of a cold bottle of water. And Julie always calls us to share a test score she'd just received or news of a friend's party she's been invited to.

I let her lead me through this party to what is essentially a never-ending buffet station. I'm impressed. Not many people, no matter how skilled in culinary design they are, can make black food look even remotely appetizing. My mother went beyond that ... creating a spread that looks like edible art. There's a football field-sized appetizer table, a second one full of sweets, and another for more stomach-filling fare. Plus a smaller table just for the four square-tiered birthday cake.

"That cake really is the main attraction ... after the birthday boy of course," Steph teased.

"Behave, Babe."

"Ruin my fun why don't you. Your mom did good though ... especially with the cake."

I agree. What I know is my mother's 'famous' chocolate fudge cake is hidden by white icing, and each layer is lined with a black silhouette of a city skyline ... Newark covering the bottom and largest tier, followed by Miami, Trenton, and then Boston, skylines. A subtle way for my parents to say how proud they are of the company and life I've steadily built, not only for myself, but also for my family ... both my blood one and the blood brothers I've collected over the years.

"Darn, if you hadn't sold the Atlanta branch ... we'd have an extra cake to take home as a 'leftover'," Steph said to me. "I like to think I'm an adventurous person, but I'm steering clear of the squid ink pasta, and sticking _real_ close to the cheesecake brownies. I give your mom a lot of credit for taking a theme all the way down to the food, but she may have been a bit _too_ _creative_ when it comes to her oldest son's birthday banquet."

"You talk big now," I replied, "but we all know you'll be trying everything five minutes from now." I bit back a grin as I spotted a familiar sight. "Don't look now, but Mama Manoso is bearing plates and bearing down on us."

Steph's head whipped around and she took a step back into me. "Crap, even from here I can see that she put a double serving of the squid-stuff on mine."

I curled my arms around her from behind and rested my chin on her shoulder. "You have no problem eating the scallops, and those live right next door to the squid."

Her elbow into my ribs caused a laugh to escape. That genuinely happy sound coming from me, the child my parents have had reason to be the most concerned about, inspired an even bigger smile on my Mama's face ... like I'd just given _her_ a birthday gift.

"I brought you both a little something to tide you over," my mother told us, after a kiss to each of our cheeks.

"Thank you, Mama Manoso," Steph replied. "Everything looks … good."

"Only the best for my family. Now eat up. I'll be back once I've stolen some time with my grandchildren. Happy birthday, my beautiful baby boy," she said to me, catching my face in her hands. "Your father and I love you and we cannot possibly be any prouder of you."

"You say that to every one of us," I pointed out.

"And I always mean it ... with you especially. We've been through a lot, and some of those things your father and I still question whether or not we did right by you, but I can't say that I would change anything even if I could, because I would NOT change one single thing about the man standing in front of me. I'm proud of you, Carlos, and I'll never let you forget how much. Now ... don't forget to visit the appetizer and dessert tables," she told Steph. "And there's more food like I've piled on your plates on the table closest to the window."

"We're heading that way now," Steph assured her, waving to Jamie who Celia and Julie are entertaining, while Tank and Brown were introducing Trey to some of our Miami guys.

Whether it be in a cemetery, backyard, or inside a building of a security firm halfway across the country, my mother refuses to limit herself or her ideas. The conference room was lined floor-to-ceiling with black drapes bookending white material laced with lit white lights. Each of the tables are covered with blinding-white, starched linen with black dishes and platters placed on them that are so reflective, they bring mirrors to mind. Small circular glass candle holders are suspended above every place offering food. My Miami men are technically still on the job, but my mother wanted them to feel that they're part of the party, so the bottles of cold Spring and mineral water were poured into the paper-thin black wine glasses before being dispatched.

The sweet zone Stephanie was definitely interested in no matter the color ... though everything is white and black as expected. Brittle was made with black sesame seeds and then broken up into shards that Tank's calling 'sweet shivs'. He teased my mother by saying they'd make good murder weapons based on the fact that the evidence can dissolve. A typical rice pudding recipe was changed and made with Thai Black Sticky Rice and spooned into mini white stoneware bowls and topped with freshly whipped cream. Stephanie stayed consistent and had a cheesecake brownie before any actual food. The light and dark meringues and macaroons, she bypassed for now. I know the Oreo cookie truffles, chocolate chunk-laced popcorn squares, black and white Tiger Bark, and white and dark chocolate-covered strawberries, she'll revisit once she's had a bite of everything else.

Baked Brie was topped with blackberries, and also black and white bean dip, are available to spread onto ... yes, pre-sliced black bread and unhealthy white bread. Caviar was spooned onto homemade crackers and also covering miniature Crème fraîche pastry tarts. Black olives were skewered with pieces of fresh Mozzarella, and those spears were sitting alongside black raspberries strung together with yogurt covered cherries.

Savory offerings were more out there. My father had carbs on the brain and there are three different dishes that used either black bean, caviar, or squid ink, based pastas. There's also a pasta recipe that includes black and white bowtie noodles with black olives. Black rice sushi rolls and white rice dumplings were added because everyone who has eaten out with Julie, knows she really enjoys Asian food. Large mushroom tarts that are sliced diagonally, white and black rice pilaf was served in opposite-colored mini-ramekins, just like the marinated roasted eggplant and black truffle topped scallops. Those were made for those less inclined to try something 'different'.

I have no explanation for the black sesame soup aside from it fit the color scheme. And I could almost see the concerned look that would have appeared on my mother's face when my father suggested he contribute steak tips and blackened chicken to her carefully-planned menu. That both meats made it to the table despite the color being more _subjectively_ black, showed that my mother loves him and will do whatever she can to show him he's appreciated.

Steph fed me a dark chocolate strawberry and then she tapped her glass to mine before pressing a kiss to my mouth.

"Happy Birthday, Ranger," she said against my lips. "I know it's _your_ day, but I want to thank you for making every one of mine feel like they're worthy of a celebration just like the one we're in the middle of right now."


	19. Chapter 19

**I know Steph's birthday isn't until the 12th, but she and I never learned the value of patience. Frostdance, you know I totally blame you and Ludie for part of this chapter, but I'm happy that you were willing to share my favorite Tom again, so I'm not complaining. :) All familiar characters belong to Janet. The mistakes are solely mine. Most of the party items I saw online.**

 **Chapter 19**

 **Ranger's POV**

Despite Stephanie's repeated assertions that my family do not have to knock before entering our home, knowing I _always_ know who's around, my parents still knock and wait for the door to be opened. On rare occasions, they'll wait what they consider the appropriate amount of time before knock-opening the door while calling for us.

That my mother is knocking on the front door instead of the kitchen one, stubbornly bypassing the bell as usual, had me curious. To make the short distance to the front entry from the living room, I picked up the twins rather than just trying to step around them. I've have easier times walking through minefields than trying to cross two-hundred feet of house with two boys acting as laser sensors you have to avoid tripping.

"Why are you knocking?" I asked my mother, stoically enduring the squeals and shrieks Trey and Jamie gave off, not only from being momentarily contained ... but also because they get to see their Abuela again first thing this morning.

"I _always_ knock," she said, after a kiss for the three of us. "I'm really happy to see that the T-shirt-fairy struck without Stephanie's urging. At least, I hope _she_ didn't have to dress them today."

She took Jamie and I let the two go ahead of me and Trey back into the living room. I _did_ get up before my wife this morning and got both boys ready for the day using the shirts Julie and I found. Trey is in a white T-shirt that confidently states in ransom-style writing ... ' _Daddy And I Agree, Mommy's The Best_ ' along with khaki cargo pants. Jamie's shirt has an owl riding a bike and the words ' _I Wheely Love Our Mommy'_ over and alongside the picture, paired with gray cargos. Their socks, or ' _ocks_ ' as they can now call them, and blue-striped sneakers will be put on just before we leave the house.

Steph postponed her shower until I was properly _thank you_ -kissed after she saw them and their clothes when she stopped in to give them their good morning kisses.

"You used the front door this time," I pointed out to my mother, putting Trey on the floor again so he could go back to conquering his world within the baby gates.

"Why yes I did. I was hoping to catch you alone. Where is Stephanie?"

"In the shower. I told her to take as long as she wants and I'd handle the boys."

"And how is that going?" She asked, smoothing Jamie's hair down just to kiss it and make him mess it up all over again as he tried to catch her face before it moved away from him.

Seeing their interactions everyday should have me immune to them by now, but watching my parents and my children, my wife and our kids, or my wife and my family, play with each other ... never fails to affect me.

Jamie felt the same. Sitting in the chair with his grandmother, he tipped his little head back against her and proceeded to give her the biggest smile ... which also gave her an amazing glimpse of his newest baby teeth. The total so far for both boys being almost six, two bottom front teeth, two eyeteeth, with two more peeking through their gums.

"You keep this teething up and you'll be eating my _Bistec Empanizado_ in no time at all," she told her grandson.

"Your Cuban fried steak is among the best," I told her, "but you didn't come here to recruit future customers. What happened?"

"How long do we have?"

"If this discussion involves Stephanie and you're worried about her overhearing, depending how long it takes her to miss us, you have only five to ten more minutes. I suggest you talk fast."

"Alright. I won't beat around the bush then. Helen Plum just called me."

Trey had been using my hands that I'd had dangling between my knees to pull himself to his feet. He felt the change in my body and reacted to the sudden stillness in it with a ' _Da ba!_ '

"Why was she calling you?" I asked, after I made myself relax.

"Calm down, Carlos. You know I would _never_ endanger our precious Stephanie. Mrs. Plum wanted to know if I had plans for Stephanie's birthday ... and followed that question with a 'polite' request that I cancel them if I do."

I did relax. Knowing my mother, that 'request' was met with one hell of a 'Hell No'.

Instead of asking what she said, I went with the more immediate concern. "What did you do?"

"I _politely_ told her back ... _'Thank you so much for asking what my plans are, but I will NOT cancel them... at the very last minute no less.'_ I also said that I love Stephanie and plan to show her just how much on the day the world was lucky to have welcomed her to it."

To me, that sounded like an alarm that could signal WWIII ... or just a good-sized skirmish between Trenton and Newark.

"I'm guessing the conversation didn't end there," I prompted, helping Trey climb my legs and torso so he could apparently stare into my eyes, trying to read them like I was doing with his grandmother.

"Well ... I did thank her for giving birth to the best daughter a mother can have ... and I may have told her that I would take over from here. I _Do Not_ want Stephanie hurt again, least of all on the day she should be the happiest to be alive."

"Believe me, Mama, Stephanie was _extremely_ happy when she woke up this morning. Jamie, Trey, and Julie, helped us start the day off with a lot of squealing, laughing, and smiling ... and that's only describing Trey's behavior. She really is okay. I've made sure of it."

"She shouldn't be just 'okay' with her own parents," she said, pausing to stand Jamie up on her legs, and then taking another second to lean forward and meet his gooey kiss, "she deserves to be celebrated for the amazing young woman, wife, mother, and daughter, she is."

"I have that covered. Her parents aren't a concern."

"They concern me."

"I know ... because you can't comprehend parents not liking their own offspring, which is surprising given the six you have, but Stephanie has become a pro at not letting them get to her ... and I'm not tired of compensating for them."

"Compensating for who?" Steph asked, coming down the stairs and stepping over the baby gate at the base of them.

I installed gates that swing open at the touch of a button, but she continues to swing her legs over them whenever she isn't carrying one or both boys, believing it's somehow faster. Being _my_ children, it was no surprise that both Trey and Jamie stopped what they were doing when she appeared.

" _Mum ... mum ... mum_ ," Trey said on a steady loop, while he made tracks crawling over to her.

The doctor assured us that they are hitting their milestones at the appropriate times, but of course Steph believes they're more advanced in their activities and ways of communicating. ' _Ock_ ,' for sock, ' _Bub_ ' for bottle, _Ba_ for bath, and _Mum Mum_ and _Da Da,_ have become a regular part of our daily conversations.

"Hey, Trey-cake. You missed Mama, didn't you?"

"Who wouldn't, Babe?" I said, while Jamie looked ready to leave my mother and head towards his.

I caught Jamie's hands in mine after Mama Manoso had set him down. I assisted him in walking over to where Trey had already made it to Stephanie.

Once she had both boys in her arms, she kissed me so I wouldn't feel excluded. Not that I would. I get the full force of her attention whenever the boys are sleeping, with others, or are amusing themselves with their now daily games of twin Hide and Seek. Parents don't get to play. We're supposed to just sit back and only comment when either Trey or Jamie finds the missing brother.

Now that they've hit the 'cruising' stage, signaling that walking is on their immediate horizon, a full laundry basket can keep them busy for a good twenty minutes. They use the edge of the basket to get themselves standing and then hold onto it with one chubby fist while flinging out their clean clothes with their free hands. The game is less fun for those left to pick up the carnage.

My mother stood and walked over to the four of us. "How is it that we can be celebrating another one of your birthdays, Stephanie, yet you look younger and even more beautiful than when we first met you?"

"I see where your son gets his complimenting skills," my wife said, her face tucked between our sons'. "Ranger says something similar to me on every birthday I've had since we became friends."

"I don't call it 'complimenting you'," her mom-in-law said. "I believe Carlos will agree with me when I say we're just being honest and speaking the truth."

"Well thank you, no matter the reason. I'd say whatever good looks or vibes I'm giving off is due to a full shower, but more because I'm living the good life. I don't have to worry about much ... _yet_ ," she said, when Trey was eyeing the floor again. "Is something up? I thought we were set to show up at your house at three?"

"You know how I am ... I needed a grandson-fix. And I didn't realize just how much I'd miss having our morning coffee together."

My mother isn't even lying, she loves Stephanie as if she were her own, and she really can't get enough time with Julie, Jamie, and Trey, to suit her.

"That's convenient, because your son was an even bigger hero to me today by watching our two tornados here," she said, with a kiss to each dark-haired head, "so I could have a lazy morning. I haven't had any coffee beyond the few sips I took before my shower from the cup Ranger brought me. We can have some together now if you have a few minutes to spare."

"I always have time for you my dearest daughter. And while I'm here, I can do a little pre-party teasing. _We_ have a surprise when you all do come over."

"That's not a 'surprise' considering it's Stephanie's birthday," I replied.

"There you go again, being far too logical, Carlos. You'll see, but right now I'm making Stephanie a batch of birthday coffee."

"What makes coffee 'birthday coffee' versus the regular stuff?" Steph asked.

"Caramel, marshmallow cream, and vanilla whipped cream to top it."

"Count me in." Still holding the boys, Steph was already moving towards the kitchen. "Happy birthday to me," she said to herself and also us over her shoulder.

We did see the surprise my mother hinted at a few hours later. We arrived earlier than we were expected to because the boys were fully napped, and Steph's curiosity was fully piqued, by two.

"I know you go all out for birthdays, Mama M.," Steph was saying now to my family, "but I didn't think you'd rent a puppy for the party. Everything that comes on this property usually becomes an instant family member."

"You know us so well, Stephanie," my mother answered. "Having Jamie and Trey here everyday has made our home too quiet at night ..."

"And has her missing having her children here to fuss over," my father added.

"That, too," she admitted. "So meet our new 'baby' ... _Nugget_."

Papa Manoso barely suppressed an eyeroll. "Your mother believes he's 'the sweetest little nugget'. Unfortunately, the name has stuck."

"So you now have a dog ... an eventual _large_ dog given the standard size of Alaskan Malamutes?" I asked them.

"Yes. The boys and Julie should have a fur-friend that's more play-accessible than Rex is," my mother explained. "But with two ten-month-old boys, and our Julie when we get a visit from her, not to mention a demanding career, you have far too much on your plates as it is, so we're providing the boys with a puppy-playmate, while sparing you the work, time, and expense, that comes with one."

That sounds plausible, but I know there's more. "What's the story behind him?" I asked. "You weren't planning to get a gray cotton ball with feet, or you would've mentioned it. Something had to have made you decide to be dog owners again. It's been years."

"Your Aunt Alexa happened to have heard ..."

"Meaning ... one of her friendly 'spies' tipped her off that there was something in need of adoption," I corrected.

"That's one way to look at it, but any way you do ... Nugget needed a good home. The owner of his mother had been hoping to create a mini-puppy mill with her potential babies ..."

"And when he didn't get half of what he anticipated for the other three," my father jumped in, "he was going to cut his losses and just sell the last one, _our Nugget,_ online ... sight unseen and into whatever life the payment cleared."

"What an a-hole," Steph said, bending down to puppy or twin-level and picking up the newest Manoso. "I really like how Nugget has one ear up and the other one curled over ... like he's not interested in conforming. You gotta love that. He fits right in. Look, Boys, he enjoys cuddling as much as you guys do."

Trey and Jamie were already on the move towards this new 'toy'. Steph put the hairball down between our babies and Nugget mimicked an owl as he rotated his head to lick Jamie's cheek and then tipped it back to thoroughly wash Trey's face.

"I hope they make full-size baby wipes that can cut through dog drool," I told the room.

"Puppy drool isn't much different than baby drool, and we're surviving that," my wife told me. "And I swear his feet smell just like Fritos."

"What are Fritos?" I asked, just to annoy her a little.

She shoved my leg in retaliation, but then grabbed my hands for an assist to her feet, brushing the white and gray puppy-fluff off the black legs of her backless, white-crossed halter pantsuit. If we weren't around family, I would've risked an elbow and suggest she keep on the jacket that came with it.

"You know what Fritos are, you just refuse to eat them."

"You tell him, Stephanie," Mama Manoso said. "Now ... as cute as our furry Nugget is, _today_ is _your_ day. It's time we get to celebrating it ... and more importantly _you_. I'm sure you recognize our one-man birthday band. Knowing your enjoyment of music and an ice-cold beer every once in awhile, Tom came bearing his fiddle and Guinness for all."

"Of course I remember Tom," Steph told my mother as well as our guest. "First off, you don't forget such a handsome face as he has. And second, it's hard to forget a fellow cemetery-partier. There aren't many of us in the world."

"Stop flirting with Tom, Babe."

"I'm not flirting, just repeating what Grandma pointed out almost a year ago. Right, Grandma?"

"You're darn tootin'!" Edna stopped harassing Tom long enough to press rose-colored kisses to her great-grandsons' cheeks. " _Now_ it's a party ... with all these good-lookin' devils, and more comin' with Range Men already on the way, music, and so much food to pick from ... no one will notice me giving Elsie some company in my purse."

"Nice try, Grandma, but you wouldn't allow Elsie anywhere near where the boys are. _You_ weren't even safe around her until Ranger 'enrolled' you in a Rangeman weapons safety course."

"Edna," Mama Manoso said to her, "you _do not_ have to sneak a single thing out of this house. You just tell me what you'd like, and I'll make you your own special carry-out plate."

"You won't have to worry about fixing food for a week with how full the plate ends up," I warned Grandma Mazur.

"You're my kind of people," she told us. "And can you imagine? Tom here can play a mean _Amazing Grace_."

"Which is a song I still to this day cannot hear without crying. It was played at Angel's funeral," my mother explained. "Since today is the happiest of occasions, we may want to skip that one."

"Happy birthday, Cookie," Tom told Steph, pausing in his fiddling to pick up Nugget.

"Thank you. I've been called a cupcake, a babe, and now a cookie. I don't mind two out of three of those."

"You're _My Babe_ , Trey and Jamie's _Mama_ , and one of Julie's favorite people, Steph. All of those cancel out any c-words ... though _cookie_ I can live with."

"Since that is settled," my mother said. "Happy birthday, Stephanie. I know a clear theme isn't apparent, inside or out, but I promise there _is_ one."

"We decided to throw a ' _My Favorite Things_ ' party for you," my father informed us, "based on _your_ favorite things, Stephanie, because you are also one of _our_ favorite people, not just Julie's."

"And because you are," my mother picked up, "I feel I should tell you that your mother did call me regarding your birthday ..."

"All I got so far is a brief 'Happy Birthday' voicemail left on my cell ... I guess because she called you before calling me," Steph said. "That's the first shot in a turf war if ever there was one. Let me take a wild guess ... she waited until the last minute, not taking into consideration that you may have been working on/cooking for days ahead of time for this, to tell you that she's calling dibs on the day ... since _she's_ the one who went ahead and made me?"

"You aren't too far off, Babe. But my mother handled it. She, like me, wouldn't hand you or _your_ day over to anyone."

"And I wouldn't want you guys to. I'm where I want to be, with the people who make me happy."

"Oh ... I just love you clear to death," my mother declared, cupping Stephanie's face in both hands and giving it an affectionate squeeze. "Since it's going to be a mild night, we have a large screen set up in the backyard for our take on a drive-in for a Ghostbusters 1 & 2 viewing. Don't worry, we provided the neighbors with gift certificates for the neighborhood pizzeria so there would be no complaints called in."

"You Manosos never leave anything to chance."

"That goes for food as well," my father added. "Since Halloween is right around the corner, our children and Valerie's, spent yesterday cleaning out pumpkins and then painting them to look like those little movie theater boxes. We've used them to create a popcorn bar out back."

"Because this party is all about you and your favorites, Stephanie," my mother continued, "there's pineapple-upside-down layer cake as well as a chocolate torte, and also a pizza 'cake' for those who prefer savory over sweet. Against Carlos' advice, I made bite-sized peanut butter and olive appetizers, a savory cheesecake and also a chocolate peanut butter cup one, little tea sandwiches that have ham, cheese, and potato chips, as the filling. As you can see, Edna came here even earlier than you did to help out and make you your favorite chocolate chip with walnut cookies. I'm sorry, Dear, I could not in good conscience heat up that frozen macaroni and cheese you seem to enjoy ... so I made an extra creamy stovetop version that I hope is a suitable replacement."

"No food you make can be called a 'replacement' or just 'suitable', Mama M.," Steph told her. "Your mac & cheese will be more like an 'instant request'."

"You're sweet to say so."

My wife nudged me. "It's nice to have my unhealthy love of carbs appreciated."

"We're appreciating all sides of you," my mother told her, "so I also tried my hand at making Fettuccine Alfredo and Tiramisu. Carlos mentioned that you order those quite frequently. You're the expert, so I'll leave it up to you to tell me if I did alright."

"I trust you. You and Papa Manoso, your kids, and your parents, all can make even the healthiest thing taste like I should feel guilty for eating it. I'm not worried."

"That is high praise indeed," Mama Manoso said. "For those interested in being adventurous beyond eating olives and peanut butter together, to truly celebrate the essence of you ... for dinner I attempted a few traditional Hungarian foods like Főzelékek."

"Great," Steph told her. "You know more than I do about Hungary, because now I'm going to have to ask what that is?"

"A vegetable stew. The Paprikás Csirke is chicken cooked in a creamy paprika sauce. Túrós csusza is a slightly different version of cheesy pasta ... using egg noodles, curd cheese, sour cream, and bacon. And in lieu of bread, I thought Túrós Pogácsa would be fun to try. As for the Italian side of you dear, Stephanie, I've made the bean soup Ribollita and Chicken Saltimbocca, which is chicken stuffed with cheese if you didn't know."

"You were lying this morning," Steph playfully accused. "You really _didn't_ have a few minutes to spare for coffee with us. I can't believe you did all of this just for me."

"Believe that I will do _anything_ for my family ... and you are an irreplaceable member of it." She paused to smile at her grandsons. "Which is why your Abuela Manoso is bringing her Costillitas, marinated baby back ribs if you were wondering, to the party because _you are_ a _Manoso_ as well as a Plum and Mazur. And I was _not_ lying this morning, because I _did_ say I _always_ have time for you. The other Manoso children and grandparents you mentioned will be arriving within the hour. I'm glad we get you to ourselves for a little while since my surprise tease worked and you couldn't stay away. It'll be good for Trey and Jamie to have time with Nugget before my children try to steal him for themselves. As you've likely guessed, we asked Tom to come early in order to give him time to acclimate to our madhouse before our entire family takes over the place."

"If you spent a Saint Paddy's Day with me and mine, you wouldn't have worried yourself with that one," he assured my mother.

Steph was watching how well Tom and Nugget were getting along as Edna managed to get both great-grandsons on her lap on the couch.

"I don't think your kids are who you have to worry about," my wife said to my mother, addressing her dognapping concern, pointing to the duo.

"I wouldn't take him away from the wee ones," Tom said. "That's not to say we wouldn't have solved a few cases together back in the good 'ol days."

"Anytime you're interested in dipping your toe back into law-enforcement's water, Rangeman could always use a cop's nose and nosiness. At least it'd be _warranted_ if you're on my payroll either here or in Trenton. Your choice."

"Don't mind if I do poke me head in," he answered, shamelessly adding a bit of Irish flair to his words to charm my family even more.

"Stephanie," my mother said, "come poke _your_ head in here."

Nugget led the way further into his new home like he's a show pony rather than something that looks like it was just rolled out of a dryer's lint trap.

I looked down in question at Steph who had just poked me in the ribs with Trey's finger after she'd picked him up so he wouldn't try chewing on the TV remote.

"What was that for?" I asked my wife.

"Even _you_ have to admit that Nugget is cute. So stop looking at him like he's defying gravity by being able to walk."

"You can barely see his legs under all that fur. He _is_ defying _nature_ at least."

I watched the furball stop and glance back at Jamie, like he was waiting for his litter-mates to join him. It worked. Jamie squirmed his way down off Edna and in turn waited for Trey to get back down and crawl over to him before both boys joined Nugget. The twins sat down and looked up, squealing in delight at the balloons covering the ceilings. After a beat, Nugget plopped down himself and began howling just for some sound variety outside of baby babble, fiddle playing, and conversations among family.

Two-foot-long tasseled-tails hung from every one of the oversized and brightly-colored balloons filled to capacity with helium so they'd hover less than an inch from the front entrance, living room, and dining room, ceilings. Which distracted nicely from the latex letter balloons that spell out ' _Happy Birthday, Stephanie_ ' or a version of it with her name changed to ' _Steph_ ' or ' _Mama_ '. Flag-style banners proclaiming the same were lining the staircase, and fireplace mantel.

On the dining room table was a centerline of sugar cones that were placed inside glass vases and each filled with a white rose instead of ice cream. It sounds like an odd combination, but it fits my woman perfectly ... sophisticated with a playful side. To provide breakfast after they serve their time as decorations, Steph's favorite doughnuts were impaled onto dowels planted in decorated terra cotta pots to act as taller 'flowers' than the real ones inside the cones. Celia's handiwork no doubt. To carry on the cone-theme, party hats were hung upside-down from every available space, filled with more roses ... red, yellow, along with the white ones like those used on the table.

Steph grabbed my hand as she moved to the sideboard that normally holds our pictures every Mother's Day. Likely inspired by the reactions she received on Veterans Day with her personal letters to my men and friends, my mother arranged to have everyone in our family write how Stephanie has impacted their lives inside cards with covers that scream ... ' _We Love You With Every Pizza Of Our Hearts!_ ', complete with pictures of smiling pizza slices.

"I wasn't kidding ... I still can't believe your family would go through all this trouble for me," she whispered, after reading the pizza card from Nola.

My sister first joked about being thankful that Steph 'tamed' me and got me to finally stay in Jersey ... more importantly _Newark_. And then she hinted at their separate relationship that extends beyond me into shopping and things like how to deal with my protective instincts whenever they flare up ... which is usually when I find out about someone being interested in her or any of my sisters.

Women who have designs on my little brother are also subjected to serious scrutiny and background checks. Knowing that women like Joyce, Helen, and Connie and Lula, exist in the world ... means he gets those weeded out right along with our sisters' potential dates.

"Believe it, Babe, because they are all _your_ family too. And they're the first ones after me to brag about it ... and you."

"Seriously ... who needs more when I have you, our kids, and them?"

"You don't _need_ more, but you deserve it."

Her arms curled around me. "I completely disagree," she said, while her eyes strayed from the Manoso sentiments to our twins and Nugget playing Hide and Seek around Tom's legs, as he graciously supplied an Irish soundtrack to our Italian/Hungarian/and Cuban festivities.

I was glad to see that the Kloughns arrived at almost the same time as my siblings, Range Men, and my grandparents ... one right after the other. It's a good thing Nugget isn't interested in doing more than licking guests to death. If he had guard dog aspirations, we could've had a problem with the way the house quickly filled up.

Tank and Bobby's hello/happy birthday hugs took my wife clear off her feet, and Julie's call had everyone loving her even more as she teased Steph while praising her like no one else could, with my wife proudly wearing the _'#HelluvaMom_ ' necklace Julie had sent her. Being willing to trade your life for another's, puts you in a unique position of gratefulness, but also feeling that you've been given something to live up to. Our daughter has done more than that ... her sense of humor, love, and open affection, has brought out another level of our own. And without any prompting from me, she has made Stephanie feel even more cemented into our family.

The happy tears resumed when Steph's official birthday cake, in addition to the other death-cakes that I already know will be the first things doggy-bagged, was carried out not long after every guest had arrived. My mother in her 'spare time' had designed a four-tiered wedding cake-style birthday cake consisting of a huge bottom layer covered in edible gold-leafed roses, followed by a smaller blue-glitter/blue with white stars-tier circled with Wonder Woman's lasso. Another gold layer was topped by a glittered red one featuring a large, gold double-W Wonder Woman logo with a gold crown crowning the cake with it's center 'stone' saying Happy Birthday.

After she set 'her' masterpiece down so the birthday girl could see it in all its glory, my mother turned to my wife.

"What could be a more perfect cake for you, Stephanie, than a Wonder Woman-themed one for _our_ Wonder - and _wonderful_ \- Woman?"


	20. Chapter 20

**Although I've already written a Halloween chapter for this story, Steph really wanted Trey and Jamie to have a chance to enjoy their first Halloween. Almost all the food and decorations I saw online. ShellSueD, thanks for inadvertently helping me stay in a Halloween mood. ;) Everyone familiar belongs to Janet. The mistakes are mine.**

 **Chapter 20**

 **Ranger's POV**

I don't choose favorites, least of all when it comes to seasons, but Fall does provide more variety than the other three seasons. Although a Jersey Spring puts up a hell of a good fight for the title of 'Most Unpredictable'. Ever since we flipped months from September to October on Steph's 'Fun Food' calendar in the kitchen, we've been waking up to a sunny sixty-degree day on a Monday, with a dusting of snow for Tuesday, followed by a thaw and back to freezing again until a warmer weekend arrives.

Steph claims Mother Nature is off her medication, but as long as my wife gets to have a few sunny days, and changing leaves to show the twins, she wasn't complaining. No, complaining about shitty weather will start when the blizzards do. This evening is cool but tolerable and dark at six to add a level of creepy to the neighborhood's decorations. Multicolored leaves are still on the trees, yet it's windy enough to blow the ones that have fallen ... up, down, and sideways, along the street and into us as we walked leisurely down the sidewalk, skipping the candy-begging at houses we passed, focusing solely on one.

Rather than frighten our neighbors like they've been known to do on Halloweens past, my parents chose to brighten the street this year. Just about every square inch of their property has a carved, artificial and well-lit, pumpkin planted on it. I wouldn't put it past Papa Manoso to switch out the white battery-operated candles in each one for a colored alternative before slapping Santa hats on each stem to get a jump on the holiday decorating.

With the yard and porch looking like a pumpkin patch on crack, the archway around the front door created by wiring together orange, white, and black, pumpkins ... should have flashed a sign screaming ' _Overkill!'_ but the two words 'too much' don't exist in my parents' dictionary.

Stephanie paused at their door before she would normally have shifted her hold on Jamie and reached for the handle.

"This sums up your parents in a pumpkin-shell," she told Trey and I.

"A grinning gourd?" I teased.

She sighed, but I know it was just for show. "Isn't Daddy funny, Boys? _No?_ I have to agree with you there. I was referring to your family turning a decoration into a way of feeding people while trusting them to appreciate their thoughtful gesture."

"I see a halved Styrofoam pumpkin, painted like a ghost, with a carved mouth crammed full of Halloween candy, it's not exactly a way to put a dent in world hunger."

" _You_ would see only that, but your Mom, your boys, and your wife, know better. Uh-uh, Jamie. You can't have the pumpkin or the candy," she said, prying his fingers off the door decor. "Okay, I see stopping to smell the chocolate was a bad idea, since someone else can do the same ... and he's faster than I am."

She put the candy that Jamie had grabbed with his other hand back where he found it, and I automatically shifted Trey to my other side so he wouldn't turn pickpocket as we walked inside.

"Ready?" Steph asked me. "I've been waiting an entire pregnancy and almost a year afterwards for this moment."

"I know you have. After you," I told her, opening the door for her but letting her precede Trey and I inside.

" _Trick or treat!_ " Steph shouted, as we stepped into Casa De Manoso, or today their haunted house.

As opposed to a typical dog, we saw Nugget acting as a dust mop as he came barreling towards us before hearing his bark and the 'pick me up' sound unique to him. He's the quietest dog I've ever encountered. My mother claims he's so happy to have such a loving home, he's not taking any chances of having to leave it. I'm surprised Aunt Alexa hasn't had a pet psychic over here just to tell him that there is absolutely no chance of him being given up. I couldn't help but notice that Tatty had been busy and had already added a Nugget-egg to the Manoso family tree. This one, like Jamie and Trey's eggs, depicted a mountain but the dog's has a river flowing along the front of it. On the grassy bank of the river were scattered old-fashioned pans used for gold mining, in one of them sat a miniature rendition of not our 'gold nugget' but the Manoso's fluffy gray Nugget.

" _Oh my!_ " My mother exclaimed, with her hands flying dramatically to her chest. "You two sure scared _your Abuela!_ "

As she intended, Jamie and Trey risked their cheeks splitting by giving her the biggest smile they could, while kicking their shoes into us at seeing her exaggerated response. The twins talking to each other about it started immediately after. Four hands moved enthusiastically as " _Ahhs_ " " _Mmms_ " " _Paaas_ " and " _Bas_ " flew between the two. I'm looking forward to - and am also wary of - what they'll eventually share with us when they can manage more than one or two syllables.

"Let me get a closer look at these costumes of yours," Mama Manoso said to her grandsons, not worried about losing an eye or acquiring a bruise while they made a break for freedom as she wrapped an arm around both.

"Hah, now we get to trade," Steph said to my family. "Normally we lose our babies and end up with a plate full of food as a consolation prize, but now _we_ also get a bay boy to play with when we come over here."

She leaned down and picked up Nugget, who had been patiently sitting by her feet waiting to take Jamie's place in her arms. If the boys and Julie gang up on us years from now and want a furball of their own, I've already made a note of getting a female so I won't have to worry about yet another male vying for my wife's attention and affection.

"As long as you remember he stays here," I reminded Steph, not feeling confident that my words penetrated, as I watched Nugget lick her chin before snuggling himself contently under it.

"You worried that he'll end up at our place?"

"Every time we visit."

"Don't our boys look positively adorable!" My mother said, likely to take the heat off of Nugget.

"I hope they do," Steph said, she and Nugget looking at Mama Manoso. "Everyone knows that Halloween is my favorite holiday, and I've been thinking about their first one constantly, so I thought finding costumes would be easy. But it was harder than it looked with all the restrictions put on what their dad and I choose."

" _Restrictions?_ " My father asked.

"Yes," she answered. "Your son said he wouldn't okay anything our babies couldn't crawl safely in, which of course I agreed with ..."

"Dear, that doesn't sound so bad," my mother patiently added.

"Yeah, but two groups of 'helpful' RangeUncles said not to put them in anything 'basic'. They thought pumpkins, dinosaurs, or ghosts, or anything like them, are 'total cop-outs'."

"There are tons of stuff still out there, Steph," my brother replied. "I have to avoid entire sections of stores in October just because parents have their kids trying on every costume in the store."

"You'd think there's a lot, but every time I talked to Eddie, Valerie, or Mary Lou, about what I was considering, they'd tell me what a good idea it is because they already did it with kid one, two, or twenty. Our boys are originals ... well aside from them being identical twins and all ... they can't be in copycat costumes."

"The men were just giving you a hard time," I told her. "They didn't mean for it to stress you out."

"I know, but I took them being pains in my behind as a personal challenge."

"I do know exactly how hard it was for you," Mama Manoso said. "Having six children ranging in ages, experiencing Halloween together every year for almost two decades, was a unique challenge."

" _Thank you!_ Grandma, Val, and Mary Lou, kept telling me not to freak out over it, ' _they're just costumes_ ', but I wanted their first Halloween to be a special one."

"It is," I was quick in telling her. "Trey and Jamie don't care what they're wearing. That's half the battle won right there."

She smiled at me before looking back at my parents.

"You both did _reeeeeal_ good with this one. He's always trying to assure me that I'm not messing up. I was going to dress up like I normally do, now that I'm not pregnant anymore, but one or both of our babies would immediately tug off anything on my head. And they looked like they were going to cry if my face was even partially hidden."

"Can't blame them there, Babe. A face as beautiful as yours should never be covered up."

"Clearly marriage hasn't killed the flirt in you."

"Not when I'm married to the woman who naturally draws it out of me."

She rolled her eyes but not before she let me see how happy my words made her.

"Anyway, as you can see, I compromised on my costume and settled for bat tights while showing back up with my Batman. Add a little black dress with cape-style bat wings, and I figured if you tilt your head and squint ... we sorta have a bat-family theme going, since we're the parents of an adorable baby bat with Jamie and a cute Count Dracula with Trey. Trey kept grabbing the bat's wings, so that basically decided who was going to be what."

"I'm not sure that constitutes a theme," I said to her.

"Okay. Since you're all in black as usual, I'll just tell people you're a Ninja. We promised the RangeUncles in both the Trenton and Newark buildings that we'd show up and show them the costumes the boys got put in. I accidentally told Mary Lou that and she threatened to do more than just trick me if we don't swing by her place for a few minutes."

"So you're not staying?" My mother asked.

"Mama, we were here all afternoon. You remember ... at the Halloween party you threw that started at one and hasn't completely ended yet. You know we left to get the boys and their Mama into their costumes, since _someone_ wanted to strictly adhere to the trick or treating hours."

"Hey," Steph interrupted, "the hours have always been from six to eight. And if our two babies took after you and hated the idea of costumes, I wanted them to stay our Bat-Baby and Count Cutie for at least the two hours of showing them off that our Rangefamilies are expecting."

"Alright, alright. I know we have to share you on occasion. It's only fair," Mama Manoso told us.

Steph cut her eyes to me. We both know what needs to happen. "You could either wrap up - or pack up - your party and come with us," I suggested.

My parents looked at each other, having the same type of wordless conversation Steph and I are known for. They concluded it with a nod and clued us in on it.

"I'll stay to keep watch over our group of ghouls ..." my father began.

"And I'll come along to help watch your two," my mother finished. "I'll just put together a few things to take along."

I decided that picturing Stephanie doing an eye roll counted as me giving my mother one. I don't know what party food she can take to my men, since my parents toned down the gore-factor on the decorations, which included the food, not wanting to scare the boys with bloody bodies or foods that resemble decayed flesh. They went a more child-friendly route.

Because the twins love anything suspended above them, my family wrapped individual battery-operated candles with invisible wire and had hung them up so they'd be dangling a foot from the ceilings in the entranceway and dining room. The living room had ghosts made from molded cheesecloth and then given painted black eyes before being wired and hung similarly to the candles.

Knowing Steph's nieces would be here for the party, my mother and sisters set up a 'Boo'tique in the den so the girls could try on different wigs, put together unique costumes from the leftovers of past Halloweens, and add 'spooky' accessories to anything they found interesting, to compete in a costume-off for prizes bought by my parents. A sneaky move on their part, since Mary Alice and Angie are on the cusp of being too into the teenage years to care much about holidays anymore.

Counting on the draw of gift cards or cold hard cash, games like toilet paper bowling, a dueling pumpkin ring toss with glow in the dark necklaces acting as the rings to be thrown, and what turned out to be highly competitive games of gourd and ghoul Tic Tac Toe, were enjoyed by all ages ... from Lisa all the way up to my grandfather. Apparently nothing is too immature, even for teen nieces, when bragging rights, prizes, and gold spray painted skeleton trophies, were on the line.

To keep the littlest ones entertained, Papa Manoso rigged up a small obstacle course for the twins and Valerie's youngest, where there were paper streamers to crawl under - or in Jamie's case, to pull down and shake - large pumpkins to scoot around, dangling ghosts to dodge, and planks to cross in order to avoid rubber scorpions and plastic spiders. My mother was cheering her grandsons on as they crawled through most of it, while the Kloughns loudly encouraged their little competitor.

What my mother is going to take on the road should be interesting, since everything made was geared towards making children and easily-amused adults smile. The appetizers ran the gamut from sweet potatoes cut into grinning jack o'lanterns and then roasted, crackers topped with small circles of ham plus cheese cut by cookie cutters into witches, pumpkins, and ghosts. A swimming pool-sized plate of taco dip with a sour cream spider web piped along the top of it, an equally large hummus graveyard, and a mummy cheese ball, took up almost an entire table. To head off my expected comments ... a fruit salad was also squeezed onto the table, containing mandarin orange slices to form the body of a pumpkin and she used piles of blueberries for eyes, and added a sliced-strawberry mouth that to me had a sarcastic-tilt to it.

For those who needed more food than that, they just grazed until the pizzas covered with mozzarella ghosts, mummy calzones, and stuffed orange peppers carved with faces that should remain on pumpkins, were brought out for consumption. Other options served with a smile were surprisingly realistic meatball rats with sliced almond ears and spaghetti tails, made to sit on a vat of smashed potatoes. If seasoned-beef rats didn't tempt guests, they could instead choose potatoes in the form of ghosts guarding the top of a shepherd's pie.

Nothing was too scary or unrecognizable so the kids attending would be willing to try at least ninety-percent of it. My parents told Mary Alice and Angie, as well as Lisa, that they could bring friends to the party if they'd like, and also invited Mary Lou and her family, which I'm sure contributed to there being no pulled pork guts or autopsy cake with organs peeking out from the standard 'Y' cut M.E.'s use, being offered. Once my siblings start reproducing, our parents will need to add another room or two onto this place. It's already getting to be a tight fit on holidays.

Despite it not being a dinner party per se, dessert was also up for grabs. Sugar cookie ghosts were hugging pecans, two cheesecakes with the filling colored three ways to mimic candy corn when cut into slices, also a huge multi-layered spiced bundt cake was frosted with orange icing in case there weren't enough odes to pumpkins already on the menu, would satisfy any sweet tooth.

If that wasn't enough, chocolate-frosted brownies that had a peanut butter cup spider spinning a white chocolate web, Halloween popcorn that was coated in melted marshmallows with purple and black M&Ms dumped into the mess, could be loaded onto waiting plates. I also noticed two platters of pumpkin bread truffles were being raided and popped into mouths right and left. Sensing an impending feeding frenzy, in a cauldron-sized clear glass dish was a chocolate trifle that I'd guess had 'devil's' food cake and chocolate mousse layers divided by marshmallow ghosts and then marshmallow pumpkins near the top, plus edible glitter candy apples to provide an immediate topic of conversation, would all ensure that everyone will still be hyper by the time trick or treating had ended for the night.

I half-believe now ... that my mother and siblings decorate so the decor itself keeps Jamie and Trey amused and in one place for longer than a minute. This year, most of the food was being served in bowls and plates that look like spiders, complete with too many legs sticking out of them, so the twins would find the serviceware almost as interesting as the food on it, now that age-appropriate finger foods have entered their lives and their mouths.

Just because our boys like balloons so much, Steph had learned over coffee one morning that my mother, Celia, and Nola, created string 'balloons' that are balloon-shaped, but more resemble white spider webs so our boys can look up at - and now play with - them as we waited to leave. Ghosts were kept safe in shatter proof glass apothecary jars, and mason jar mummies and stacked jack o'lantern topiaries will continue to illuminate the downstairs well into the night.

As I've stated, not food or decorations that would have you automatically thinking _RangeMen_ , but the mobile buffet my mother had quickly packed up said otherwise.

"The dog, too?" I asked, looking at Nugget who is now tucked under my mother's arm since she's all done in the kitchen for the moment.

"Of course, what will brighten the day of those boys ..."

" _Boys_ , Mama? These are men who have taken out some of the most sadistic people on the planet."

"That may be who _you_ see, Carlos, but _I_ prefer to always try to draw out the little boys that are still in there needing to be acknowledged too. Two adorable little boys who seem to melt hearts on command, plus my furry baby, will have everyone feeling happier than if we just gave them pizza, cake, and candy."

I consider myself an excellent negotiator, but I still don't stand a chance against her when she plays hardball.

"On second thought," my father jumped in, "maybe I should also be coming along. I can take your mother and our dog in my car and follow you."

"The Merry Men always say the more the merrier," Steph added, letting Trey crinkle the wrapper of a small bag of Skittles until he laughed, but quickly snapped it back when he decided it may need to be put into his mouth. "Sorry, little guy, you need to be a few years older before you can taste the rainbow." At my raised eyebrow, she explained. "It's the Skittle slogan. You really need to watch a commercial every now and then."

"No, I don't," I told her, getting the jackets Trey and Jamie wore over.

"Don't mind him, my dear Stephanie. Carlos has always preferred participating in the action, rather than sitting there watching it. He could never sit still for very long."

"That hasn't changed," my wife told my mother, as she helped Trey into his outerwear. "Even when he's letting his body rest, his mind is far from still."

"Welcome to our world ... and also our childhood," Celia needlessly said. "My little brother was always in everyone's business."

"I still am," I reminded her. "Someone needs to make sure you all are watched out for."

"Give it up, Ceals," my brother butted in. "We all know Carlos was built to be worse than our parents combined."

Thankfully, only the Manosos are left to hear this shit. The Kloughns, their plus five, and the Stankovics left between four-thirty and five to get ready for their own night of trick or treating.

"One day you'll thank me for keeping your asses out of trouble," I told my siblings.

"If you want to kiss your Mama with that mouth," my mother said, "you'd better clean yours up, Carlos."

"Feel free to kiss this 'Mama'," Steph told me. "I promise you won't have to change _anything_."

"Oh brother," Ophelia literally stated.

"This brother is ready to get going ... if anyone's coming with us," I said, zipping Jamie up and then picking him up.

"Your carriage awaits, my love," my father said with gallant bow to his bride, making every one of his children cringe.

"I'll give you twenty dollars to never say that to me," Steph teased.

"Just you wait. When you and Carlos have been married as long as we have," my mother advised, "you will appreciate the love behind every comment given. Even those that cause your smart-alecky children to make faces at you."

My wife smiled at me over Trey's hand when he went for her nose again. "I already appreciate them."

I shoved my brother towards the stuff that needs to be loaded up before he could speak and make Steph question saying how she feels.

"Are we ready to roll?" I asked the room.

"Yep," Steph said, managing to hold both boys as well as one spider string balloon that the twins are now holding between the two of them.

I lessened her load by one again and, with my siblings' help, got everything and everyone into two vehicles, as the leaves once again were being blown into us by a gust of wind. It was amusing to watch Jamie bend himself almost in two over Steph's arm to try to catch a yellow leaf as it flew by. Julie had executed a similar move with every Christmas light I passed while holding her.

Steph called Edna when we were en route. "Grandma? We're about a minute away from your place." She paused as Edna spoke. "Okay ... alright ... fine, we'll pick you up at your apartment." She disconnected and looked over at me. "Who would've guessed that I take so much after Grandma Mazur? You thought I was bad with the six to eight-thing, but she'd like the boys to officially make her ' _Go ahead ... make my day!_ ' doorbell quote Dirty Harry again before she'll come downstairs."

"What did I tell you?" I said to her.

"That Halloween is a waste of time?"

"No. That you are more Grandma Mazur than you'll ever be Helen Plum."

"I hope so. The end of the world could happen, and Grandma would be there toasting her upcoming solitude, believing she'd survive it."

I sent a grin her way and turned down Linden Street. I likely didn't need seven floors for the Newark building, no longer requiring a penthouse, but it pays to be consistent when it comes to running a multi-state company, so I only altered the design of this one minimally. It is seven stories, which Tank or another member of my core team appreciates now having an apartment to sleep in when they're visiting or overseeing, but it's not constructed of brick. Weathering steel covered what isn't bulletproof-window, which the front of the industrial building is almost entirely made up of. A bat cave is a nice idea in theory, but no exposure to natural light tends to produce cranky employees.

"Okay, Mama," I said to my mother in the lobby of the Newark building, "you set up your porta-party and we'll get Edna."

"Alright, Dear, just be sure to tell Edna that I saved her some cake since she has said my spice cake is the best she's ever eaten."

"She loves anything you make, Mama M.," Steph told her mom-in-law.

"Edna will just be glad that something made it past my men," I pointed out.

"Which is why I think you should revise Rangeman's menu, Carlos," my mother said to me. "I could offer you advice on what your men may enjoy eating while on the job."

Great, now she has a company takeover in her sights.

Snipe, Winchester, and Scope, had met our small caravan and enthusiastically unloaded the snacks my mother put aside for them. This isn't the first time they've been treated. Whenever Mama Manoso is bored, feeling the need to give back, or wanting to eliminate the possibility of leftovers, someone on my payroll ends up in danger of gaining a few pounds.

My wife, our boys, and I, left my parents and my Newark RangeMen to get into the holiday spirit.

"Trick or treat," Steph said, as her grandmother's door flew open.

"Damn skippy! I got two bat-boys beating down my door tonight." As they did with my mother, Trey and Jamie fed off of Edna's mock surprise and got animated real fast. "Come in, come in. Knowing you were coming up. I just flipped the switch on that fancy coffee maker you got me, and popped the box on an Entenmann's crumb cake."

With that kind of offer, we couldn't not stay at Edna's for awhile. Her personal space is exactly that, an apartment furnished with things that make her happy, which appeared to be bright artwork and unique art pieces that come from every corner of the world, items that Helen would drop dead before allowing in her Burg home. Trenton and Newark may have a friendly rivalry going when it comes to who can claim us, or who the boys like more, but both cities have really come together on one front, being almost the sole suppliers of Edna's growing art collection. Whenever one of the RangeMen go somewhere outside of Jersey, they always bring something back for Edna to display in her home.

Not only has Stephanie blossomed since she and I got together, Edna Mazur has come into her own once she was finally given the freedom to. And once Grandma Mazur realized she didn't have to literally grab a guy to get his attention, my men became willing to give her some, becoming charmed by the woman herself and the stories she tells, instead of having to hide from the persona she was projecting.

We did rejoin my parents and let Trey and Jamie stretch their legs a little more while Steph and I got updated on the day's activities, Halloween being one of the busiest days for a security firm. We couldn't stay long and had to wrap up the twin-visit after another twenty minutes so we could still work in a Trenton run before the boys decided they've had enough and say 'Adios' to another holiday by falling asleep in their car seats before we even leave the city.

Praying that my Newark men won't OD on sugar and carbs overnight, we got back into our vehicles and headed to Trenton, our building there, and eventually the madhouse that is the Stankovic home. I'm betting our babies and my wife will go lights out long before we're back in Newark. A sleepover on seven, just like old times, may need to be scheduled for tonight.

As I parked in my space, a voice came over the sound system that I had also piped into the garage and parking area in case an active threat ever breaches the gate.

" _The boys are back in town!_ " said a voice I recognized as Gene's.

" _Get those diapers in here already_ ," Ramon chimed in, hijacking the speaker.

"Geez," my wife said to me, "you'd think we've been gone longer than two weeks without stopping in."

"You're a popular person."

"Nice try, Batman, but both comments were directed at Trey and Jamie."

"Have they ever been here without you?"

"Not unless you snuck off with them without me knowing. Where you and they go ... I go."

"Which is my point. It's easier for the men to say they're happy to see our babies, than admit they miss seeing _you_ on a daily basis."

"Or you," she countered.

I supposed that's possible. I've taken my role as their leader seriously, and I will always be there for my people, but the escape from their daily realities that Steph brings them is what they continue to seek out.

I pocketed my keys and went to help unbuckle the boys as my parents parked beside us. I kept Jamie close and got one of the insulated totes my mother had packed and saved for this building. I followed Steph and Trey to the lobby with my parents hot on our heels, my father handling the other round of Halloween treats while my mother toted the dog.

"We were hoping you'd come trick or treating," Gene joked, as we hit pause on our parade so the twins and the puppy can visit with him and Ramon before we stopped all activity in the control room.

"Like we had a choice?" Steph teased. "I believe there was talk of mutiny if we didn't show up."

"Only about twenty guys threatened to revolt," Ramon reminded us.

"So much for men not being interested in babies. You all seem overly interested in ours."

They both shrugged. "The kiddos are icing on the relationship-cake we were all hoping would get baked," Gene admitted.

"Well, it worked," my wife agreed.

"It would've worked better had you decided to keep home base here in Trenton and stuck to just visiting Newark."

"What was that, Trey?" She said, bending her head to our son's before edging closer to the elevator. "We're needed on five? Guess we'd better get ourselves going."

"You have nothing to feel guilty for, Steph," I told her, as Jamie and I walked away with her.

"I know, but I do miss everyone here."

" _How?_ They don't leave you any time to miss them. They're always at our place or in our building, supposedly keeping tabs on the new Newark guys."

"You're not fooling me, you enjoy their company and that they come over so often."

I cut my eyes to her. "Mainly I like _your_ company. And when they visit, you and I can relax together while they chase down Frick and Frack here."

"And don't you forget, Stephanie," my mother added, while I hit the button for the elevator, "if you and my Carlos didn't decide to buy a home in Newark, we wouldn't get to spend so much time with you. I wouldn't look forward so much to my alarm in the morning if you didn't live on our street."

"Like you have ever relied on an alarm," I told my mother.

My father laughed. "How right you are, Carlos. Your mother is the one who tells the sun to rise and shine."

"Oh ... you two," Mama Manoso said, ushering us and her food into the elevator.

The smile that stayed on her face even after she believed no one was looking at her, let me know she's pleased, not annoyed at our teasing her about her insomniatic habits. Jamie and Trey were completely fascinated by the buttons on the wall of the elevator, so Steph and I helped each boy press the one for five.

"It does feel a little weird to be back almost where _we_ started," Steph told me. "Our home is so centered in Newark now."

"Home is wherever we choose to make it, Babe. And for the next hour or so, the control room on five is it."

When the doors opened, the boys were already on the move. We'd put them down just to see how they chose to get themselves out of the elevator. Trey really wanted to command their entrance, so he tried out the walking-thing they've been steadily working on, this past week especially. Jamie followed his big brother's lead. They started on their knees and used their hands to push their little bodies upright, pausing as they swayed back and forth, fighting gravity to gain their balance before forging ahead. Once they got close enough to standing, Trey took a tottering step towards the group that had formed at our arrival.

Trey made another attempt at covering some distance with just his feet, but landed on his diaper instead. Jamie fared no better, not even trying to take the initial step. When the twins saw their _Uncle-everything_ Tank, as well as some more familiar Uncle-faces, the boys abandoned all plans of walking into control central and crawled like hell to the people and party awaiting them.


	21. Chapter 21

**All familiar characters belong to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone. As another year comes to an end, I wanted to say thank you for spending some of it with my version of Ranger and Stephanie.**

 **Chapter 21**

 **Ranger's POV**

"Look at all the balloons, Guys," Steph needlessly said to Trey and Jamie.

Only when they saw birthday balloons everywhere, did the boys stop their squirming to get down, hoping to walk/butt-shuffle down the stairs by themselves. To date, the twins have all of Stephanie's 'forge ahead' spirit with none of my 'wait until all the intel's in' patience. Once they learned to walk, and began running at full throttle shortly after, life's been a non-stop adventure ... as Tatty's eggs foreshadowed.

"It's impossible for them not to look at the balloons, Babe. You and the party-helpers spent hours putting them every place the boys can't reach ... and a few places they _can_ with some help."

My parents, Julie, Edna, and Valerie, had turned in their Santa hats and joined forces with Steph to attack our place with a vengeance. Even our Christmas tree, that has been up since eight-thirty-four AM on December first, received a makeover. Steph's explanation had been ... ' _Jamie and Trey will always have to share 'their' day with each other, the least we can do is give them a party separate from Christmas ... so our Christmas tree is now an official birthday tree for the twenty-four hours of the twenty-fourth_.'

Overnight, our tree was stripped of every Christmas ornament and replaced with shatterproof clear balls filled with confetti and quickly glued shut. Happy birthday banners and streamers were put in place of garland, small gifts were wrapped and hidden where the boys will be able to find them, and even more balloons in primary colors were ribbon-tied on almost every branch. It did give off a celebratory air ... and that it had been a project Stephanie and Julie had taken on together, made it an even more special one ... and therefore tolerable.

Having children to celebrate the holidays with has made me more inclined to let decorations exist in my environment without much comment or complaint. And with Trey and Jamie's birthday wrapped up in one of the biggest seasonal celebrations, means _above and beyond_ are only guidelines when it comes to decorating around - and for - Christmas.

Our home was heavily influenced by Santa, his reindeer, and snow - plus gingerbread - men, but on the day of the twins' birth ... our house flipped a switch and became all about Jamie and Trey, and how thankful we are for them.

Stephanie had already been vibrating with ideas, energy, and anticipation. When I picked Julie up in Miami and brought her home, she added a shot of adrenaline to Steph's already frenetic activity. The two of them got busy as soon as the boys were asleep for the night on the eve of Christmas Eve ... which in our home is really the day before a personal holiday.

" _Hurry up!_ " Julie yelled from the kitchen. " _Breakfast is gonna get cold!_ "

"What did Dad and Daughter do while I was getting the boys presentable?"

Thanks to a Steph/Celia shopping trip, to make the pictures taken today self-explanatory ... Trey's long-sleeved tee said ' _One Whole Year Of Awesome_ ' and his little brother's screamed ' _Mr. One-derful_ '. To protect them against a New Jersey winter, they each had on lined baby jeans ... Trey's with a teddy bear patch on the leg and Jamie is sporting ABC patches, both wore waterproof and insulated work boots in case we aren't completely successful in keeping them from wanting to walk some of the way to their grandparents' house.

"I helped Julie figure out how to make the eggs she wanted to do for her brothers," I explained to Stephanie.

"I can't wait to see what you two concocted. I hope you boys are hungry so we don't disappoint your big sister," she said to the twins.

" _Bawoon!"_ Jamie shouted, winding up to swat one cluster of tied blue balloons secured to the handrail at the base of our stairs.

Trey laughed at the chaos his brother created when each balloon shook and then slowly resettled into its original position. Steph and I shared a look at what we're in for with these two. We put the boys' boots to the ground and put the baby-gate back up once we were all on the first floor, seeing that Julie was impatiently coming out of the kitchen after us.

"Looking good, Guys," she told her baby brothers. "Now everyone grab a seat. Breakfast is served."

Steph buckled Trey into his high chair while I got Jamie seated.

"Now I see why a blender and an oven were needed," Steph told Julie. "Look, Boys, Julie made you scrambled egg balloons, presents, and party hats, just for your big numero uno birthday."

"With help from Dad and some cookie cutters," she admitted.

"You'll have to show me how you did this. I could have some real fun at breakfast with alphabet cutters."

"No," I told her. "We'll stick to just birthday shapes, not curse words. You swear enough as it is whenever you're doing something in the kitchen."

"I may have been thinking about spelling out 'I love you' with food."

"You _may have_ , but you _weren't_."

She grinned at Julie and together they plated up our breakfast. Not only are the eggs amusing to the boys, they're easy for their little hands to pick up. Bite-by-toothy-bite, we watched a party hat and a balloon disappear first into a baby-fist and then into a mouth or two.

"Guess they like them," Steph said to Julie. "Lucky for you ... you live in Miami, or I'd be bribing you into helping me out at mealtime. Ella and your grandmother are probably sick of my phone calls by now, and your Dad has picked up more slack than he should have to."

"I'm fine, Babe. And neither Ella nor my mother are tired of hearing from you," I told my wife. "They always enjoy talking to you _. Seeing_ you and the kids, they love even more."

"Ella promised to be here with Louis tonight for the party."

"I hope _everyone_ from Trenton can come," our daughter shared. "Newark, too."

"I doubt our house is large enough to contain two buildings worth of my men," I answered, "but those who aren't working swore to Stephanie that they wouldn't miss it."

"Given how well Steph can wield a stun gun," Julie teased, "they'll be more scared of not showing up, than worried about being in a house full of our family."

"I know you think you're being funny, but that's exactly why we have to get eating and then spend some time with your grandparents," Steph said. "They want a few hours with you and the boys before they have to share you."

My wife pulled the bow off Julie's present-shaped egg and ate it as all three kids laughed at the expression she made while doing it. I leaned back in my chair, sipped my coffee, and just enjoyed the relaxed nature of a morning spent with the people I love the most.

Steph wiped hands and faces as eggs and fruit got pressed beyond all recognition into fingers and plates, plus one unfortunate hair situation involving Trey's spiky strands. Julie kept her brothers amused and mostly out of trouble as we cleaned up the kitchen before leaving the house.

Trey and I got the door for his mother, brother, and sister, and we followed them inside my parents' home. Steph stopped in the middle of the foyer a few feet from the family egg tree, not even making it to the living room before noticing that something is different.

The Christmas decorations are all lit up, the house smells like my mother has been cooking and baking for days, and the pile of gifts almost dwarfed their seven-foot-fir tree that my parents had decorated with small stuffed Christmas-themed animals just because there are now-walking one-year-olds who visit daily and touch, and quickly throw, everything they see.

The noticeable change today is instead of family members being sprawled out in chairs or coming in and out of the kitchen, everyone's standing in the living room with their coats on. Only Nugget looked content to stay curled up like a lint ball on steroids on the couch. To his credit, he did jump down to greet us with an enthusiastic tail wag and a half-hearted chase of Jamie and Trey. He even stayed upright long enough for Julie to give him a full head-to-tail body rub. Once the preliminaries were out of the way, he returned to his spot before it could be taken by someone else.

"What's going on?" Steph asked the room. "Ranger told me we were due here around eleven, but it looks like you're all going somewhere."

"We are," Mama Manoso told her. "And you, Carlos, my Julie, and _mi nietos_ , are coming with us."

" _We are?_ "

"We thought it would be a nice surprise to take Trey and Jamie someplace for their birthday that they will truly enjoy ..."

"Enjoy more than _here_?" Steph asked.

My mother smiled. "I would say 'I hope so', but I want our house to always be their chosen place after their own home. I know you have a party for them planned later today, but I thought we could spend a few hours out so you won't have anything to do except relax and fully enjoy _this_ day as well as the holiday."

"Sounds good, but depending on where we're going, we'll have to get the boys' outdoor gear and pack a bag for them, since we'll be away from home _and_ here."

"Your in-laws didn't want you to feel like they were usurping Jamie and Trey's birthday," I told my wife, "so they asked me ahead of time if I thought you'd be okay with the idea. I knew you'd agree with anything that would make the boys and Julie happy, so I got their snowsuits and put together the things they'll need. I dropped everything off here this morning while you were getting the boys dressed and Julie was keeping an eye on the eggs."

"You're never off duty, are you?" She asked me.

"I manage," I responded. "Being prepared for every possibility has never been more rewarding than it is these days."

"I'll get back to that comment later tonight, but I'm glad you played Boy Scout today. I guess we can leave whenever everyone's ready. Thank you," Steph said to my family.

"There is nothing to thank us for, Stephanie," my father assured her.

"Yes there is. There's more than you'll accept thanks or credit for. Can I ask where we're going? Or should I let it be a surprise for me too?"

"Up to you, Babe."

"I'll wait. It'll add to the excitement of the day."

"I doubt _anything_ can add to it," Julie told her. "It's hard to top two birthdays and five holidays happening almost all at the same time."

" _Five?_ " I asked my daughter, wondering when the total got rounded up.

"Yep. Not only are we going to celebrate twice as hard for Jamie and Trey's birthday, we get to party for Christmas Eve, Christmas, New Year's Eve, New Year's Day, plus your wedding anniversary. You didn't forget your anniversary did you, RangeDad? Dad did that to Mom one time ... and he _neeeever_ made that mistake again."

"I most definitely _did not_ forget," I promised my daughter.

"We'd best get to all this celebrating," my father suggested. "We have a lot to pack into only one short week."

"Well ... convincing two wriggly boys to stay still long enough to get their limbs threaded into something warmer, which I'm guessing we'll need if Ranger had to sneak out their snowsuits, will take a few minutes."

"We will be outside a lot," Julie teased.

"So _you_ also know where we're going?" Steph asked with an eyeroll. "I'm not surprised. Like father, like daughter."

My siblings helped to distract Trey and Jamie while we got them bundled up. And then the entire Manoso clan took off to the child-friendly railroad-themed amusement park that also decorates their entire grounds especially for Christmas.

It was easy to see that Stephanie approved of the choice when we stepped through the entrance gate and saw our boys' reaction to the sound of the steam train pulling to a stop to let passengers off.

" _Choo-choo!_ " Trey called to the train.

Jamie went with trying to replicate the whistle instead, coming close enough to get his point across.

"You guys really like trains, don't you?" Steph asked the twins. "I'm glad about that. Before you two, I never thought I'd actually smile again hearing the words choo-choo."

My eyes caught hers as a memory from her past intruded, one that I wish I could change and give back to her, but Julie spoke and broke the moment of silence for the moment that I believe ended Stephanie's childhood and forever altered the dynamic of her relationship with Helen.

"What's wrong with a train noise, Steph?"

"It was the name of a game played at one Burg home back when I was too little to realize I didn't want to play it."

"When I was a kid, Mom or one of my Dads would stop me from doing anything I wasn't one-hundred-percent sure about," Julie said, with a rueful smile aimed at me.

"Yeah, I pity anyone who would have to face the wrath of your parents," Steph told her, pausing Jamie in their slow-stroll to loop an arm around Julie's shoulders for a quick hug.

"Everyone's overprotective ... even you, Steph," my daughter agreed, "but I know it's because you all love me."

"We do," I added. "We only have _one_ Julie in our world ... so she needs to be kept safe and loved fully."

"You see why we're celebrating a wedding anniversary?" Steph said to her. "How is it possible to resist your Dad when he's being such a good one?"

"It isn't possible for you to resist me," I told her, picking Trey up so I could kiss his mother.

"It's a good thing I'm here to chaperone," my daughter stated, "and also move you two along. My baby brothers want to play."

"After you," I said, passing Trey to her to try to hold onto.

"Now we're getting somewhere. Okay, _Trey/Jay_ where do you guys wanna go first? Trains, cars, horses, or airplanes?"

" _Gid up ... gid up_ ," Jamie said, once he and Trey were finished discussing things in their own private twin-language on top of the typical baby-babble that still mystifies parents.

" _Cawd_ ," Trey answered. " _Baroooom_."

"That sounds a little more like a motorcycle than a car, but I get what you're saying. Good thing you _are_ here," Steph told Julie. "You can do the mini-raceway with your Dad and Trey. And Jamie, I, and any Manoso who wants to joins us, will be at the carousel."

That's how our afternoon was spent. Going from ride-to-ride, sometimes everyone on one, other times we went separately. Julie diplomatically took an equal number of times sitting with her brothers so one didn't feel neglected. Steph and I managed to sit out more than half of the rides, having the luxury of enjoying each other's company even in the midst of a crowded place surrounded by my family. That was made possible because they were more than happy to hog the birthday boys and Julie. We all know her visits have an unfortunate time limit that come with them.

They held out longer than I thought, but eventually Steph and Julie wanted to try out the various food options the park provided. Steph ordered a S'more-stuffed soft pretzel and then we all walked over to the Choo-Choo BBQ shack to get Julie some barbecue chicken taquitos that are too-conveniently placed vertically inside a soda cup for easy transport around the park The boys and I were happy with what I packed from home ... the soft granola bars and par'steamed' baby carrots that they enjoy gnawing on. We don't need to compromise our health in order to have a good time.

"This is a great place," Steph told my mother, when my parents caught up to us. "I'm glad you guys thought of taking us all here."

"Not only did I believe my grandsons and Julie would love it, the donated gifts they collect today ... will be handed out to kids at the Children's Hospital tomorrow morning in true Santa-fashion."

Steph cut her eyes to me. "Are _our_ share of the presents to donate already handled, since we apparently bypassed that particular area?"

"Three healthy donations were made to the hospital in Julie, Trey, and Jamie's names. And my parents were taking care of unloading the toy store they bought out while you were taking in the twenty-foot Santa and the strobe lights passing as Christmas decorations."

"Guess that's why you always tell me to be aware of my surroundings. I really can miss a lot."

"You had no reason to be on high-alert, Babe. You know you're safe with us and could just enjoy the moment."

"I definitely am enjoying today. I say we finish our snacks, take a train ride around the park so we can see every single light that's been strung, and then head home to birthday-central."

"You won't want cake after having that pretzel," I pointed out.

Steph's eyebrows flew to her hairline in disbelief. "There is ALWAYS room for cake, especially ones made in honor of our babies."

"Yeah, Dad," Julie added. "These are just appetizers for what we have waiting at home."

The sad part is, I believe that's how they view fair-fare. They threw out their wrappers and cup in the nearest trash receptacle, and then Steph and I reclaimed our boys from my sisters and boarded the train. Julie held Jamie on her lap, while Steph sat Trey on hers. My wife leaned into the arm I placed around them while the train made tracks around the small pond that reflected the lights lining all the buildings and every ride, doubling the impact - and eye strain - of the small Christmas city within the park.

I called Tank right before we started walking towards the parking area.

"We'll be leaving here in about ten minutes, make sure everyone is where they should be."

"I have Edna with me now and we're en route to your place. We, and the rest of the guests, will all be waiting there for the birthday boys."

"Good. See you then."

The rhythmic cadence of the train clicking over the tracks had lulled both boys to sleep. Jamie first with only a few caught head-nods before he let himself go lights out with no muss and even less fuss. Trey soon followed ... stretching out in his mother's arms, only to turn back towards her and curl himself into the fetal position against her to sleep. That amount of time, combined with the drive home, afforded them enough sleep in order to recharge their batteries.

We unbuckled them from their car seats back in Newark, and then Julie took over, carefully walking over the shoveled driveway and sanded sidewalk securely holding their hands. She paused, trying to figure out how to open our front door without letting go of either of her brothers. Tank solved that problem by opening the door for them from the inside.

"Surprise."

"Ummm, Uncle Tank? You're supposed to yell ' _Surprise!_ ' with excitement and maybe some jazz hands, not just drop the word like it's a moldy piece of bread."

"What are jazz hands?" He asked, instead of redoing his greeting.

Edna nudged him aside, which is an impossible feat unless he's willing to be moved. "This is how you do it, Tankster. _Surprise!_ " She shouted, both bony, thin-skinned hands up and moving in a way that would be at home on a Broadway stage.

"Happy birthday, little dudes," Mary Alice said from, I'd guess, behind her great-grandmother.

"Oooh ... this is going to be so much fun," Mama Manoso said from _behind us_ , effectively sandwiching us between the family we love.

"Come in, come in," Edna encouraged.

"Thanks, Grandma. It's nice to be invited into our own house," Steph teased.

"Don't mention it. My Tank-man here and I dognapped Nugget and brought him here and then started putting out the grub that was waiting for us at the Manosos. But Mary Lou and Valerie took over as soon as they got here. We helped, though."

"Of course you did, Grandma Mazur," Mary Lou said, trying to peek around Tank's arm to talk to us. "I put Trey and Jamie's smash cakes out on the baby-table of honor. All we need are the birthday boys."

"Who we just happen to have," Julie replied.

"Prove it and bring 'em in here!" Lester yelled from inside.

"You heard Uncle Pushy, Jules," Steph said.

Tank moved to the side, making the doorway usable again. We all went in and Jamie and Trey couldn't contain their smiles or their baby-talk when they discovered that all of their people were hiding out in their house. After they were freed from their winter gear and then fitted with their 'Birthday Boy' crowns, they ran from one person to their birthday tree, to another person, to a balloon, and then over to Steph or I, with Nugget, Julie, and Lisa, right behind them.

I, and some of my men, brought over the last of the made-ahead trays of dips and chips, appetizers, sandwiches, both pasta and vegetable-based salads, plus a few portable dinner options. Tatty and my father handled the centerpiece, which Tatty had designed and so far has not been shy in accepting praise for. It's well deserved. She rigged up two cake stands so they would be connected by a pair of train tracks. A banner declaring ' _Happy First Birthday_ ' was being flown by a small but eerily realistic plane between the cloud-letters spelling out Trey on the three-tiered car-themed cake and the cloud-Jamie on the equally tall train-based birthday cake. In our freezer, I know there's now homemade vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry, ice cream for those who'll want their piece á la mode.

My parents' kitchen will be wiped cleaned when they get home tonight and then quickly reburied tomorrow under a Christmas meal and too many desserts. There is _no_ day that doesn't deserve to be celebrated in my mother's eyes, but from Thanksgiving to New Years she runs solely on caffeine and holiday cheer.

The traditional one-year 'smash cakes' were literal ones for our boys, since Steph, Edna, and my mother, made two six-inch round cakes in a comic book theme with ' _smash_ ' ' _pow_ ' and ' _kick_ ' written in comic-style thought bubbles along the sides of both. Once Jamie and Trey were face-planted and elbow-deep in their separate cakes, I wrapped my arms around their mother and slipped a 'twin'-stone diamond ring next to the wedding and engagement ones on my wife's finger in honor of our one-year wedding anniversary that feels like it's also being celebrated tonight.

 **A/N: The train-themed amusement park was loosely based on Edaville Family Theme Park.**


End file.
